Elusive Thoughts
by Mir
Summary: When Prince Darien inherits the crown, he inherits a land divided by war and political disputes. As he attempts to bring about peace, not just the temporary absence of war, a memory haunts his mind, a memory of a beautiful girl that was promised to him.
1. Elusive Thoughts - Prologue (revised)

title: Elusive Thoughts | Prologue (revised)  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
*Prologue*  
  
  
The desert air hung heavily with the smoke from a hundred burning   
fires. Above the top of every watchtower dancing flames licked the sky, a   
somber message passed from town to town, from tower to tower. Ashes,   
falling like darkened snowflakes, covered the people who passed below,   
people mourning the death of their Prince and Princess.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
The bandits had fallen upon the unsuspecting couple   
in the dark of night and overwhelmed the guards by sheer   
numbers alone. The Prince stood over his dying wife, one   
arm clutched against his bleeding side, but he knew that they   
were surrounded. He lifted his sword and slashed blindly at   
the darkness, then collapsed, dizzy from loss of blood and   
exhaustion. He covered her body with his, even at the brink   
of death protective of his beloved, and whispered that he   
loved her always and forever. A slight smile crossed her lips,   
and she exhaled softly, her soul rising from the bloodstained   
earth. The Prince followed; he took her hands, and they   
drifted away across the metaphysical landscape while their   
attackers slapped each other on the back and grunted in   
triumph.  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
And sitting by himself, a small boy hugged his knees to his chest and   
wept, shoulders shaking from shock and fatigue. They'd made him light the   
first fire; it was his duty, his responsibility - afterward he'd fled, run away from   
the blazing tower to the quiet sanctuary of his garden. No one had pursued   
him. Caught up in their own loss, they had let the crown prince escape from   
the public eye.   
  
It was his sister who took the trouble to find him, and it was her   
shoulder to which he clung fiercely. She rubbed his back and pulled him   
close, putting aside past disputes to offer the comfort he needed. He looked   
up at her with eyes red from crying and blew his nose on her sleeve. Then,   
hand in hand, they walked back toward the tower where their Godmother   
Ariane was waiting for them.  
  
"Darien," she greeted, firmly taking his clammy hand in hers. He   
looked back at his sister who reached again for his other hand, but Ariane   
stopped her with a glance. "Thank you for finding Darien, but I need to talk   
to him now - alone." And as Kerri stared into her Godmother's eyes, so   
dark and serious, she pulled her hand back as if she'd been slapped.   
  
"Yes ma'am." Kerri bowed her head in resignation then disappeared   
with softly echoing footsteps that faded into the night. After all, she thought to   
herself, Darien was a pain in the neck, wasn't he? Just a little kid brother who   
always buried his nose in books and asked way too many questions.   
  
Darien turned to watch his sister leave, but his Godmother tugged at his   
arm, pulling him back outside. He dug his heels into the ground stubbornly, his   
mouth turning down at the corners. "Where are you taking me? Why did you   
make her go?" he asked in a thin voice, once again on the verge of tears.   
  
She stopped and knelt down so that her eyes were level with his.   
"Darien, I've something I'd like to show you, something that you may not   
understand now but that you will some day, when you're older." Her voice   
was soothing, her tone surprisingly gentle. "You've had a hard day, and you   
loved your parents dearly, I know, but can you come with me, please, just for   
a moment?"   
  
Startled by his Godmother's unexpected benevolence - he'd always   
seen her a being rather caustic, holding herself aloof and disinterested - Darien   
found himself nodding and following her without knowing why. The moon   
filtered brightly downward, piercing though the smoke to light the pebbled paths   
beneath his feet. He didn't notice they were back in the garden until the rich   
sent of spring blossoms intruded upon his sense of melancholy dejection.  
  
It had always been his shelter, a quiet oasis in the middle of the desert   
sands, a place where he could disappear to for hours at a time, a place that he   
had helped create by the work of his small hands and his eye for elegant   
simplicity.  
  
Ariane stopped at the edge of the pond and bid Darien to sit by her side.   
A pass of her hand smoothed the ripples into submission, and she lifted her eyes   
to the pulsing moon above. The prince held his breath as light began to collect   
at the surface of the water, a shimmering opacity that condensed out of the air.   
Ariane dipped her fingers into the cool water, and a face coalesced in the radiant   
luminosity, a pale oval framed with fluttering blond hair and pierced with dancing   
blue eyes. Darien stared, his mind working to memorize every detail before   
Ariane let the conjure fade away. "Who is she?"  
  
"She'll be yours some day, Darien. Make sure you guard her well. You're   
meant to be together, and you will be...in good time." She smiled tiredly,   
knowing full well that she'd failed to answer his question. "Come now, let's try   
to get some sleep. Tomorrow they'll expect you to light your parents' prier, and   
you need your rest."  
  
He reached toward the water, the trembling fingers of a six-year old child   
grasping for something enticingly beautiful that the he hadn't quite understood; he   
hoped to capture the magic of just moments before, but managed only to get his   
arm wet. His lips formed the first word that came to his mind. "Why?"  
  
Ariane, not expecting the question, shook her head. "Not tonight. You'll   
understand when you're older. Now, scoot - off to bed. I don't want to have to   
carry you back inside." She rose from the ground and dragged a reluctant Darien   
back from the edge of the pond. Her tears fell silently onto the ground, and she   
turned her head away so the prince wouldn't see.   
  
  
*end of prologue*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Here's the revised Prologue - mainly just minor grammatical adjustments...  
nothing major. I'm working on the rest of the fanfic, so keep your eyes   
open for upcoming revisions - because I'm doing some major plot additions   
to some of the later chapters *g*!   
  
- Mir (11.20.00 ~ revised ~ 02.09.01)  
.  



	2. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 1 (revised)

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 1 (revised)  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
Here's the revised version of Chapter 1. I've made some   
plot changes when I revised (and added in a new scene as   
well!), so some of what you read here won't match with   
the rest of the story until I've got it all revised. Just for   
reference, the Commune is what I called Moonlight Keep   
previously. I've made this changes because there were   
some questions about Serena and her friends that I wished   
to answer. Enjoy - and let me know if you think the   
revisions are any good ^_^.  
  
*Chapter 1*  
  
  
Hidden deep within the craggy spires of the mountains, the   
Commune had been established as an educational community, a   
unique meeting of the spirit and the mind. Its thick stonewalls rose   
proudly above the barren cliffs, gray and amber against the vast   
blueness of the overarching sky.   
  
And although the wind whipped frigidly around the mountain   
tops, a collection of young students gathered outside the walls,   
laughing gaily and dragging laden wicker baskets behind them. Most   
were clad in crisp white uniforms; the remainder looked slightly out   
of place in blue. For even as the young men and women ripped   
handfuls of grass out of the earth to toss at each other, they had only   
to look down at their clothes to be reminded that had been chosen   
by the Goddess to carry out Her Will on earth.   
  
"Ooh, Talorak, you minx! Come back here - you're going to   
get it big time!" One voice rose clearly above the others, and it was   
a wonder that the Goddess herself didn't wince at the noise. The   
culprit was a small girl clad in grass-stained whites, two golden pigtails   
flying behind her as she chased after the boy who had just stuffed   
grass down her shirt.   
  
"You're so slow, you couldn't catch me even if the Goddess   
took pity and helped you!" The boy retorted as he ran circles around   
her. He wiped sweaty hand on his blue tunic, a jeering grin plastered   
across his face. The other students had begun to cluster together,   
betting on the outcome of the confrontation. It was well-know that   
Talorak was the fastest student in the Commune, but they had also   
know some...rather unusual things to happen when Serena's anger   
got the best of her.   
  
"Don't you dare insult the Goddess! Just because she never   
gives boys her Gifts doesn't mean that she doesn't look after all of   
humankind." Serena had given up the chase and was instead glaring   
at Talorak, arms akimbo and eyes narrowing dangerously.   
  
"Who says I have anything against the Goddess?" Talorak   
yelled from his position across the field. "Just because she gives us   
Gifts of different sorts doesn't make you any better than me!" His   
hands had clenched into fists, and he held them in front of his chest,   
bouncing lightly on his heels. "You think you're so high and mighty   
because you can wave your hand around and weave light into pretty   
pictures, but I'll show you what real strength is. C'mon, I dare you   
to try your worst on me!"   
  
Serena breathed deeply, trying to control the rage inside her   
but failing miserably. "You -Healers- are all the same. You're all   
spoiled, egocentric brats who can't tell real Gifts from imagined ones!"   
Her voice, if it were possible, was even louder than before, carried   
upon the rising wind as if by magic. "You'll never understand the   
Goddess's Will because you never take the time to sit quietly and   
embrace it. Don't you remember the vow you took upon entrance to   
the Commune? 'Never use your Gifts to hurt others'."  
  
A faint yellow glow had begun to gather around her torso,   
iridescent tendrils that radiated outward from her body. Talorak   
tried not to cringe. He hadn't meant to provoke such a strong reaction   
from her...he actually thought she was rather cute when she was angry...  
and he certainly didn't feel like getting fried - for even though Serena   
was lecturing to him about the Goddess's Will, he knew that once her   
emotions got the best of her, she would have no control over her actions.   
  
"Hey, Serena, calm down, okay?" He dropped his fighting   
stance and let his arms fall neutrally to his sides. "We're supposed to   
be having fun out here, remember?" If his abrupt change was completely   
baffling to Serena, his reasons for surrendering were perfectly obvious   
to the observers. They didn't particularly feel like getting fried to a crisp   
either.   
  
"Yeah, don't mind him, Serena." A slight girl with dark, bluish   
hair had stepped from the huddled cluster to approach her friend.   
"Can't you feel it? There's something in the air, and it's affecting us   
all." Ami grasped the other's arm, her eyes closing as the glowing   
energy drained through her body back into the ground.   
  
Serena, her cheeks flushed from anger and effort, turned her   
glare on her friend, teeth clenched together. "Why did you do that?   
Didn't you hear what he said? He said that the Goddess - "  
  
A second student had appeared at Ami's side, a girl with long,   
jet-black hair and expressive eyes. "It doesn't matter what he said.   
Don't you realize what you almost did?" she interrupted, returning the   
other's glare unflinchingly. "What do you think would have happened   
if you'd just released that energy into the air?" She paused, and when   
Serena didn't reply she gestured broadly and continued. "I'll tell you  
what; You would have created a giant explosion and completely   
ruined the meadow, not to mention burning half of us to a crisp in the   
process. Is that what you wanted? Is that what the Goddess would   
have wanted?"   
  
Serena shook her head slightly, jerking her arm away from Ami's   
grasp and biting her lip in chagrin. "I...I never wanted to hurt anyone,"   
she stammered, stepping away from the dark eyes that held her captive.   
  
"Well, if I were you, I'd think good and hard about that because   
you had us fooled for a moment there," Rei replied indignantly. But   
when she saw her friend backing away from her she sighed and rolled   
her eyes. "Serena, Serena, what would we do without you to keep us   
on our toes?"   
  
And from a window high above a pale face looked down upon   
the students' antics with quiet amusement. They'd never really been in   
any danger - it was her duty as the Lady of the Commune to protect   
those under her charge, and she would have easily deflected any attack   
Serena had thrown. Still, it was useful for them to sort out their   
differences without her involvement, and Ariane had to admit that she'd   
been in her share of scruffs as a girl as well. 'But I'd never live it down   
if the Princes got wind of such' she thought as she closed the curtains and   
wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. The door closed behind her,   
and Lady Ariane drifted down the stairs to go join in the fun.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
It was a reoccurring nightmare, a virulent image that haunted his   
subconscious by night and darkened his manor by day. And now, it   
had once again become reality. He'd climbed the tower stairs alone to   
light the fire, to start the flames that would blow the ashes of his sister   
out across the desert sands like fluttering memories returning home to   
heaven.   
  
This time he'd done it without anyone telling him to - he wanted   
to be the one to honor the Princess, his sister, Kerri. After his parents'   
death he'd looked up to her both for comfort and for guidance. She   
always had a moment for her kid brother, always a penny for his   
thoughts. But now... He slammed his fists against the wall. 'Damn it,   
why am I always so alone'.   
  
He trudged back down the stairs, eyes half-closed against the   
smoke, one palm pressed against the wall for support. He paused for   
a moment, thinking of the last time he'd walked down the steps alone.   
'It was when my parents...died, when Ariane showed me the conjure   
in the pond'.   
  
Ever since that day he'd carefully examined every blond-haired   
girl he came across - but none were 'his'. The memory had faded, as   
memories of children often do, but he knew that he'd recognize her   
when he saw her, knew that he'd love her. But damn, he didn't even   
know her name, let alone where she lived...if she lived, if Ariane hadn't   
lied. What if his Godmother had merely used the conjure to give a   
distraught, six-year-old orphaned prince something else to think about?   
What if she'd only wanted to make sure that he had something to live   
for? What if....  
  
"Hey Darien, you alright?" A strong hand closed around his arm   
saving him, at the last moment, from tripping on the bottom step of the   
tower. Shaking his head, he hid the thoughts of his princess back into a   
private corner of his mind and lifted his eyes to meet those of Kerri's   
husband, Andrew. "Yeah, sure - just peachy."   
  
Andrew was less than convinced. "Um, I bet." He led his brother-  
in-law away from the tower, blatantly ignoring his protests. "I don't care   
what you say. You look like Hell warmed over, and your sister would   
skin me alive for letting you torture yourself into desperation." He leaned   
against the door to his bathing chamber and pushed Darien inside. "You   
may be the Crown Prince, but you're in my rooms now, and you have to   
do what I tell you to," he continued, grinning.   
  
Of the few people that Darien let close to him, Andrew was   
second only to his sister. The prince's senior by several years, he had   
a vibrant nature and an oddball personality. No one was ever more   
concerned about those he cared about than he, and no one knew how   
to deal with Darien as well as he did.   
  
"I'm not letting you out until you get yourself into the tub and clean   
off the soot. You're completely covered in it." Darien scowled as Andrew   
shut the door and locked it with a soft click. "Why should I listen to you?"   
he demanded, his tone harsher than he'd meant it to be. "Why not? You   
would have fallen down the stairs and landed on that royal nose of yours   
if I hadn't caught you." And Darien had to admit that, for once, Andrew   
was right. He was, if anything, completely exhausted.   
  
He sank thankfully into the warm water, relaxing for the first   
time in days. Traveling across the empty desert, Kerri's carriage had   
been overtaken by bandits...mercenaries paid to spill royal blood then   
disappear into the night. 'First my parents, then my sister' he thought   
to himself. 'I doubt it's merely a coincidence'. He closed his eyes,   
mind wondering, and would have fallen asleep if not for a loud banging   
on the bathroom door.   
  
"Dar-ien, hey Dar-ien. What are you doing in there, drowning   
yourself?" He started at the sound of Andrew's voice - he'd   
completely forgotten that his friend was waiting outside. "Sorry,   
Andrew...I'll be out in a second." The water drained from the bath,   
taking most of the soot away, and Darien ran his rag around the   
bottom of the tub, wiping away the rest. 'If only moving on were as   
easy as cleaning up'.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Lady Ariane, a stiff pillar of white robes, stood at the window and   
frowned. The blazing chain of fires had finally reached the Commune, and   
it could only mean one thing: Kerri had died. She wasn't surprised; the   
moon never lied - but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon.   
  
She turned away and slammed the shutters closed behind her, the   
breeze ruffling her silver hair. 'I hope I'm not too late'. Light footsteps   
faded behind her as she disappeared down the stairs into the library.   
Light and warmth enveloped her in a smothering embrace, and she   
shivered. After seventy years of lonely nights with only the stars and   
moon for company she shied away from comfort and companionship   
as a wary cat does from water.   
  
Ariane knew where she'd find the girl, knew that she wasn't   
sleeping. The gentle crashing of the waterfall hid her approach as she   
slipped into the arboretum, and she regarded the young woman   
before her with quiet skepticism. "Serena."  
  
Serena, barely more than an awkward child, pivoted sharply   
at the sound of her name, and the flowers she clutched with nervous   
fingers scattered haphazardly across the floor. "I'm...I'm sorry Lady   
Ariane. I couldn't sleep...I was dreaming" Her blue eyes opened   
wide with trepidation, and she trembled slightly as she spoke. "I   
promise I won't sneak out again. I promise, I promise, I really do."   
  
And to her surprise, Ariane's gaze softened, and the 12th Lady   
of the Commune actually smiled. "You can't hide anything from the   
moonlight, dear. I know you've been coming here every night." She   
bent down to help collect the scattered blossoms, and Serena quickly   
squatted beside her, dropping as many as she returned. "But don't   
worry. If I were angry I would have approached you before. You   
know that."   
  
Serena did. She'd been ten years old, an energetic child with a   
voracious curiosity and an eye for trouble. The library had invited her,   
the fire warm and the glittering moonlight mysterious. Her mouth had   
dropped open with awe, and she hadn't expected Ariane to materialize   
before her. "What do you think you're doing here, Serena?" She'd   
trembled and bit her lip to keep from crying. "You are never to come   
into the library without permission. Never. Do you understand?" Serena   
had nodded, nodded and then fled.   
  
Now again, she nodded again but this time without fear. "Why   
seek me out, Lady Ariane? I don't suppose this is merely a social visit."   
She clutched the returned flowers to her chest, finger nails nervously   
digging into the stems.   
  
"You supposed correctly. It's time - we're leaving tomorrow."   
Ariane replied firmly. "Go on, you need to get some rest." She patted   
the other's shoulder reassuringly, then swept out of the arboretum leaving   
a dumbstruck Serena standing behind her.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
It was late evening, moments before dusk, and the sinking sun   
cast long shadows across the low shrubs before him. Darien casually   
ran his hand over the tops of the greenery, making a mental note to trim   
them by daylight. Then he realized that by the next sunset he's be the   
Desert's ruling Prince. 'Oh Kerri, why did you have to go off alone?   
Why couldn't you have been more careful? Why hadn't I gone with   
you?' He sank onto a bench, chin in his hands, depressed.   
  
"It isn't good for your health to feel sorry for yourself, Darien."   
He jumped quickly to his feet, hand at the hilt of his sword, but he   
relaxed when he recognized the voice. "Ariane, you scared me half   
to death. Where did you come from? How did you get here?"   
  
"On the wings of the moonlight, my dear. I'm not -really- here,   
remember, not in the conventional sense at least." She looked the Prince   
over from head to toe, scowling slightly when she noticed he was both   
armed and exhausted. "You'll see me in person tomorrow, so don't run   
off and do anything rash. I want you well-rested and in one piece when   
you meet her."  
  
Darien had opened his mouth to retort that he was an adult   
and thus knew what was best for himself - but he froze at Ariane's last   
remark. 'She?' he thought to himself. "Do...do you mean?" Ariane   
smiled, pleased to have caught her ever-calm princeling off-guard. She   
nodded, half in affirmation, half in satisfaction. "I can't hold the conjure   
any more, Darien. Take care of yourself - and remember."   
  
Her image faded, leaving behind a silver shimmer that hung briefly   
in the air then evaporated into the darkness, and Darien turned away.   
'Damn it. What -is- it with Ariane? Why do I always feel like she's in   
my mind?' He kicked a large rock and watched it tumble away from him.   
Then, with customary precision he straightened his shoulders and walked   
calmly out of the garden and into the stables.   
  
"Just going for a ride around the grounds, Alex," he called to the   
guard at the door as he tightened his horse's girth. The staff was used   
to their Prince's idiosyncrasies, and the guard returned Darien's gaze   
impassively. "Come back if you see any scoundrels about, milord," he   
replied with a wink. But Darien didn't hear; he was already flying across   
the desert sands, away from the castle, away from the memories.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena sat uneasily in her saddle, her eyes half-closed in thought.   
The mid-morning sun was hot on her back, and the desert winds swirled   
bits of white sand into her hair. After all the passing years it was finally   
happening - her dream was becoming reality.   
  
It had begun when she was not much older than ten. Every night,   
a gentle, dark-haired man would sweep into her dreams and steal her heart   
away. She would wake up in the morning feeling empty inside, tears   
sprinkling down upon her rumpled sheets. As usual, it was Lady Ariane   
who'd approached her, comforted her, and reassured her that the dreams   
weren't merely the result of an overactive imagination. "When you're older,   
Serena, you'll meet him," she'd said with unquestionable authority.  
  
Serena smiled at the memory and sighed pensively - only to be   
pitched forward against her horse's neck; she would have ended up on   
the ground had a quick hand not shot out and grabbed the reins. "Head   
in the clouds again?" Lita accused with a good-natured laugh. "Better   
watch where you're going or you'll be black and blue by the time we   
reach Crystal Castle."   
  
Blushing crimson, Serena readjusted herself and flexed her cramped   
fingers before reluctantly taking the reins back from her friend. She guided   
her mount away from Ariane's, trying to put a little distance between them   
without being noticeably overt. "Thanks...I'm so nervous - to finally meet   
him after all this time." The wind tossed a wisp of hair flew across her face   
and she caught it with her tongue. "What if he doesn't like me? What if I   
can't stand him? What if he's an egocentric slob with less intelligence than a   
garden snake?" As she chewed mulishly on her hair images of fat, dull, stuffy   
princes came to mind.   
  
"Forget it. Once you see him and he sees you we'll have trouble   
keeping you two apart. Right, girls?" Lita glanced back over her shoulder   
at the other three members of Serena's entourage. "Actually, Serena has a   
point; if he doesn't like her - "   
  
"Then he's a fool," Mina finished, cutting off Amy's comment. "No   
need for second plans until the first ones don't work. Besides, if he's   
ignorant enough to throw away an opportunity like this one he doesn't  
deserve her."  
  
"Stupidity's not the question. You don't have to be an idiot to be   
unsure. Many people are apprehensive of those who have lived at the   
Commune with the Goddess, and if he only sees Serena as a-" Ami had   
come up beside Mina, insistent that she not be misunderstood.  
  
"Can you guys stop talking about me as if I'm not here?" Serena   
grumbled in irritation. She smiled, an afterthought to soften her words.   
"Sorry, I guess we're all a bit tense today..." her voice trailed off into awed   
silence as she glanced up and beheld more water than she'd ever seen in   
her life.   
  
"Look sharp girls, we've come to the river crossing," Ariane called   
from up ahead, pretending that she hadn't overheard the conversation behind   
her. "If anyone has second thoughts about coming with Serena and me,   
now's you last chance to voice them." The girls exchanged glances, but none   
uttered an objection.   
  
  
*end of Chapter 1*  
  
I appolgize to all you who are reading the fic for the first time   
because of the discrepency between plot elements. I was debating   
whether to post the revison all at once or as I'm finished with the   
chapters...the later won out, as you can see. Email me if you have   
any questions concerning the differences. I don't bite, and perhaps   
I'll get the rest of the revisions out faster... :).  
  
- Mir (11.26.00 ~ revised ~ 02.10.01)  
.  



	3. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 2 (revised)

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 2  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: I'm going to present chapter 2 in a slightly different   
way. I think the plot lends itself to the first person rather   
than third person so I'm going to do a 2d and a 2s section   
(ie. parts chapter 2 from the point of view of Darien and   
Serena). Good idea? Bad idea? Let me know what you   
think :). Oh, and ## means note at end.   
Here's the revision - no new scenes here, but I have made   
some extensive grammatical changes. Yes, and I'm   
changing to name of the Caucus. In all revisions, the Caucus   
will be referred to as the Assembly.   
  
  
*Chapter 2: Section 1d*  
  
  
Most of my life I've chosen to travel incognito, barely brushing past   
another, a ghost on its way to nowhere, searching under mountains for   
gems of wisdom, but hoarding them all to myself. If I played, it was with   
disinterest and lack of will to win. I dreamed visions of perfection, scenes   
from a life free of troubles and complication, but I knew it wasn't for me.   
There were things I had to do, things that needed to be done, things that   
no one else would do for me....  
  
I shielded my eyes as the sun rose gracefully over the horizon. I   
hadn't realized I'd been sleeping in the saddle. The drifting sands of the   
desert stretched out before me as far as I could see, merging with the   
morning sun at the edge of the world. Daffyd snorted and stamped his   
feet, and I reached down to pat his neck; one could always count on a   
horse to be in a good mood early in the morning.   
  
To a foreigner, traveling alone in the desert with only a small amount   
of water would be dangerous, almost suicidal, but I'd been born in this land   
of extremes and recognized landmarks without a second thought. Anyway,   
I knew where I was going - I was going to the river.   
  
Daffyd held his head high as we made our way across the sands. I'd   
been neglecting him of late, I realized. But not intentionally - there was the   
garden, the library, and all the hideously formal occasions that Kerri always   
insisted I attend. She was forever hinting that I marry and produce an heir -   
since she and Andrew hadn't been able to. And now...there would never be   
one, no little bundle of energy to remind me of the sister so dear to my heart.   
  
The speck of blue twisting across the sands grew distinctly as the   
morning progressed, and I heard the river long before I came upon it. There   
had always been something fascinating about the rushing current, and I used   
to stand at the crossing for hours, enthralled by the novelty of so much water   
in one place. The only way to cross it was by ferry, and the ferryman was   
a quiet mousy type whom people tended to underestimate. I had too - until   
I saw him waist-deep in the rushing water pulling flailing people out by their   
jackets collars. That was years ago, back when I still knew him as Mister   
Karos. Now I simply call him Jack.   
  
Jack must have recognized me from afar because when I approached   
he boathouse he was standing outside waving to me. It had been almost   
eight months since I'd last ridden out to visit him, and I hoped that there   
wouldn't be any awkwardness between us. I wouldn't pretend that Jack   
could ever replace the father I'd lost those many years ago, but he was the   
one I tended to run to when I was disturbed...unfortunately, his boathouse   
was a fair distance away from the castle.  
  
"Why milord Darien, it's been ages since I last saw you." He would   
have reached out to take Daffyd's reins from me, but I stopped him with   
a glance. People were always trying to do the littlest things for me - didn't   
they realize that a guy likes a taste of independence every now and then?   
  
"Yes, I'm sorry...things have been busy, to say the least." I hesitated   
for a moment. "Kerri's fire, it doesn't change anything between us, Jack,   
nothing." He hadn't called me by any sort of title since we'd first met all   
those years ago. Back then I hadn't been slow to point out to him that I,   
Darien, was a prince of the Desert. He'd laughed good-naturedly and   
replied, 'Well, my Prince, it's a good thing you told me. I might have   
dumped you in the river without realizing that I'd committed an act of   
treason'. Now, his reversion back into formality bothered me more than   
any report of military invasion could have.   
  
"Thank you." He frowned, and if I had been looking closely I might   
have noticed a slight blush to his cheeks, but I was preoccupied with   
thoughts of the coronation and of Ariane's visit. The ferryman pulled my   
mind back to the present with a soft cough. "Don't mean to pry, Darien,   
but you look exhausted. Do you want to lie down inside and catch a wink   
or two? Is anyone expecting you to be right back?" I didn't realize how   
tired I was until he mentioned it.   
  
"I left late last night...I think Andrew can cover for me until lunchtime.   
He's done it before, you know." I slept, I'm not sure how long...and I   
dreamed about the night my parents died. There's always been something   
oddly mysterious about Crystal Castle, for as long as anyone can remember.   
From the time my family line first held power over the Desert sands, the   
castle has been the resting place of the most wondrous crystal. Slightly   
larger than a fist, its transparent facets are an incandescent perfection of   
glittering silver and deep shades of blue. It has a side for each living   
member of the bloodline (in addition to the eight it always has for structural   
integrity), and by some means it transforms whenever a member of the   
family is born or dies. No one has ever admitted to ever witnessing the   
change, but legend has that the crystal glows - casting an eerie light over   
the entire basement of the castle. I knew when my parents and Kerri   
passed on because the crystal transformed.   
  
I think I would have slept well into the afternoon had I not been   
awakened by a large commotion on the river. As I stumbled out into   
the glaring midday sun I realized that it was more than a minor commotion,   
it was a disaster. The ferry is normally guided across the river by a   
thick rope that stretches from bank to bank. When I saw the broken   
end of the line drifting downstream in the current, I feared for the safety   
of Jack and his passengers.   
  
There, about halfway across the river the ferry rocked dangerously   
back and forth in the water's violent embrace. I watched as one of the   
passengers leaned over the railing and was sick, hands clutching the   
wooden beam as if her life depended on it - and in actuality, it probably   
did. Standing on the shore, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness,   
my only thought was Jack's safety. My feet carried me swiftly to the   
water's edge, and before I realized what I was doing I had waded into   
the river up to my knees.   
  
I dug my boots into the soft mud and reached for the rope.   
Catching it in my fingers, I struggled to maintain upright against the   
rushing current and pulled, hard. I think I was hoping to pull the ferry   
safely in to shore, but it was too far gone, and I found myself being   
dragged underneath the ominous surface of the water, hands still   
clutching the rope, legs flailing everywhere. The cold water sloshed   
over my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I don't think I screamed -   
I can't remember really, but when I came back to the surface I looked   
frantically about, searching for the boat.   
  
It was caught on a large rock some twenty feet up current, listing   
precariously from side to side, and I could only imagine the beating the   
passengers were getting inside. A loud crack sliced through the air,   
reaching my ears over the angry rumble of the waters, and with increased   
urgency I began moving toward the ferry, pulling myself hand over hand   
up the rope. I had almost reached the side of the craft when a plank   
shattered near my head throwing splinters in a wide radius.   
  
I yelled, but Jack didn't answer; he was probably more intent on his   
own survival than listening for the voices of people bobbing in the water.   
If I'd looked over and seen how close to shore we were I wouldn't have   
been nearly as frantic, but one doesn't consider such things in such dire   
situations. As I'd predicted, the rest of the boat soon began to disintegrate,   
unable to withstand the stress. I heard Jack scream "Everyone, swim for   
shore!" and almost forgot to follow his advice myself.   
  
He was the first to jump into the water, and when he saw me bobbing   
at the end of the rope like a bloated fish his eyes widened in astonishment.   
But he must have decided that there was no time to scold my stupidity, for   
he immediately turned his attention back to his damaged craft and waited   
expectantly. As it usually does, everything happened at once. Six people   
deserted the boat in rapid secession and began swimming toward the shore   
with varying degrees of success. At the moment, I didn't even notice that   
they were all women.  
  
I had made it about halfway back to shore when an arm stuck me   
across the head. My ears were filled with an unearthly scream, and I   
managed to grab a handful of fabric before the noise swept past me. I   
pulled whomever I'd snagged in to my chest, our eyes met, and time   
stopped.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
*Chapter 2: Section 2s*  
  
  
When I arrived at the crossing I wasn't prepared for the wondrous   
sight that awaited me. There was something beautiful in the rushing   
violence of the river, a wonderful excitement that sent shivers racing   
down my spine. Somehow, I knew that something was going to happen.   
My first instinct was to look to Lady Ariane for support and explanation,   
but her attention was focused on the ferryman. I only caught snippets   
of the conversation - something about the waters being particularly   
rough for this time of the year. Everything else, from when I stepped   
onto the boat until I saw -him- was nothing but a blur.   
  
Mina was teasing me about the last time we crossed the river.   
We were all younger then, barely more than seven or eight, and Lady   
Ariane had insisted that Rei attend her cousin's wedding. "I can't believe   
you were sick! The water was like crushed velvet - all soft and flat,"   
she joked, punching me in the ribs.   
  
I rolled my eyes, cheeks pale, and gripped the railing until my   
knuckles were white. "Easy for you to say. You were practically   
born on the water." I closed my eyes, intent that, this time, I'd keep   
my breakfast.   
  
I remember I was falling, falling endlessly and wondering why   
everything was so cold and wet- and then the world suddenly stopped   
spinning, and I opened my eyes. It was a moment out of my dreams;   
I knew those eyes, those endlessly deep pools of blue that had kept me   
awake night after night - and I forgot to breathe until a hand roughly   
slapped my back. When he touched me, little sparks of fire swept   
though my veins, and I somehow wondered whether he too felt the   
flames.  
  
I must have fainted, for when I opened my eyes again I was   
sprawled breathlessly upon the ground, water lapping quietly at my feet.   
The sun beat down warmly upon my back, and I felt as though I could   
lie peacefully with my head in the mud forever. But then, my tranquil   
stupor was interrupted by an obnoxiously loud noise I recognized as   
Rei's voice. "Ugh, ick! I can't remember the last time I threw up."   
  
I sighed, thinking how sad it was that nice moments were so   
ephemeral, then turned my head, expecting to see Rei - but instead   
beheld a head of hauntingly familiar black hair. My heart skipped a   
beat, and I held my breath as he rolled onto his stomach and pressed   
into a kneeling position. He shook his head as if trying to clear the   
river water from his ears. I felt a light hand touch my shoulder then   
fingers swept the hair from my eyes. "Are...are you all right?" a voice   
inquired.  
  
When I looked up at him in response he jerked his fingers   
away from my cheek in surprise and embarrassment, and I exhaled   
softly. Not caring that I was half-covered in mud, I caught his hand   
before it disappeared. "I think so-" My voice was a pale whisper of   
its usual self, but I sat up and scooted closer to him. His arm fell   
across my shoulders, and I leaned against his chest, crying softly.   
"Shhh, it's all right, we're all okay, safe on land," he muttered.   
  
"Damn it, Darien! What the Hell were you thinking? Are you   
completely and utterly out of your mind? If you'd gone and gotten   
yourself killed in that act of empty-headed foolishness...why, I'd throttle   
you right here and now if they wouldn't hang me for treason - "   
  
'Darien?' I thought to myself. 'His name's Darien?' Then the   
rest of the fiery accusation sunk in, and my heart flipped. 'Hung for   
treason? He must be someone important. I bet he has herds of girls   
fawning after him. He'd never see anything in a girl like me.'   
Nonetheless, I decided to take full advantage of our current position   
and snuggled up against him.   
  
He lifted his head and would have turned to confront the   
interrupter (whose voice I'd now identified as that belonging to Lady   
Ariane), but I grabbed his arm to hold his attention - and was startled   
to see blood oozing beneath my fingers. "You're bleeding." He   
looked as if he was as surprised as I, and then shrugged, a smile   
creeping across his face. "Thanks... I hadn't noticed." There was   
warmth in his eyes, warmth that I wanted so badly to be love. He   
was the one whom Lady Ariane promised would love me!  
  
I tore off a strip from the bottom of my dress, now ruined by   
mud and water, and wrapped it around his arm while he mumbled to   
himself. "I must have cut it on some rock or something. It's strange I   
don't remember. Ariane's going to kill me...." Then with unexpected   
abruptness he gripped my arm, his eyes drilling into mine. Something   
had happened when Lady Ariane spoke, something inside his mind,   
and the stern gravity of his expression - so different from his gentle   
smile of moments before - frightened me.  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't even know your name, but there's something   
I have to tell you." He spoke in a rush, words tumbling out of his mouth   
in a jumble. "You know why you're here, and so do I. Ariane expects   
us to marry. Further, she expects it to happen soon. But it can't. Not   
yet." His eyes were the deepest of blue, and I drowned myself in them.   
"Please believe me when I tell you I will marry you and no other woman.   
I knew it from the time Ariane conjured your face with the moonlight.   
But there are things I must do before we can marry. Some of them   
may hurt you, and for that I'm sorry - but my sister is dead. I'm the   
ruling prince, and what a prince must do the man often regrets. I must   
show everyone what manner of prince I intend to be. I'll explain it all to   
you once there's time, and I hope you're the kind of woman who can   
understand such things. If you're not you'll have to learn. But I wouldn't   
do them if they weren't necessary for our life together. I want to live in   
peace, not at the point of a sword. Do you understand?" ##   
  
I nodded. I didn't know what else to do. His words were the  
last I would have expected. My breath caught in my throat, but I was   
eventually able to stammer out, "My...my name's Serena." His eyes, for   
a moment, sparked in nervous excitement, but I saw him suppress it with   
ruthless proficiency.   
  
"Ariane will want me to welcome you in a way that fits a royal   
bride, but I can't - not until after the Assembly. Can you trust me,   
Serena?" My heart went out to this man, this stranger, whom I felt I   
knew almost as well as I knew myself. I returned his gaze and replied   
with complete honesty, "I already owe you my life. I only wish I could   
return the favor." His eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment, then he   
tilted his head to the side and replied in a faraway tone, "You will Serena...  
someday you will." But I had no time to ponder the implications of his   
statement, for Lady Ariane was then upon us, and I had other, more   
immediate, worries to deal with.   
  
  
*end of Chapter 2*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
C'est fini...goodness, I think I've had enough water to last me a while.   
Memories of *Titanic* rushing though my mind - oh no, it's that horrible   
movie again! Someone please put me out of my misery. *sigh*, just   
when you think you're safe that obnoxious theme song comes back to   
haunt you. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. More's coming -   
some time ^_^. Oh, and if you're confused (about the crystal, about   
the Caucus, about anything) just email me, and I'd be more than happy   
to explain. But it should all become clearer as the plot progresses,   
anyway....  
- Mir (12.03.00. ~ revised ~ 02.22.01)  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
## - yes, it's wonderful, yes it's straight out of Rawn's book. No I won't ever   
do this again, but I couldn't resist. I promise that everything else is in my own   
words, from my own imagination - but Rohan's speech (or at least the part of   
it that I used) is so...Darien, that I couldn't see myself writing anything near to   
it. Yes, I feel terrible, but oh, life is so short ^_^.   
.  



	4. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 3 (revised)

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 3  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: There's one more main group of characters to   
introduce...Sorry folks, not much action in this one - mainly   
plot/character development. Oh and if you haven't noticed,   
everything between single quotes '...' is thought by characters,   
not said out loud. I think this chapter should clear up a few   
of the questions raised by the last. I'm not sure how long this   
story is going to be...many thanks to Jessica M. Moonflower   
for bolstering my flagging confidence after each part.   
  
PS - note: Here's the revision! It's taken me longer than I   
thought it was going to...but there's a whole new scene at the   
end, and the chapter _is_ a full 13kb longer than it was   
before! Hope you enjoy it... ^_~  
  
  
*Chapter 3*  
  
Berlyn curled her lip in disgust. 'Why do I always find myself   
surrounded by idiots and savages?' she mused as she swept down the   
long, elegant hallway. Golden light filtered in through stained-glass   
windows, highlighting the mosaic patterns of the tiled floor, but Berlyn   
stormed forward without giving her surroundings a second glance.   
Negauta Castle was renowned for its fabled beauty, although few were   
allowed within its walls. The commoner would say the reason for this   
was because it was the seat of the High Prince, but Berlyn knew the real   
reason with painful intimacy - High Prince Raonus's embarrassing surplus   
of illegitimate daughters.   
  
"Berlyn, is that you? Stop lurking miserably around the hallways   
and come here. I've been searching for you all morning!" Elvira   
proclaimed, hands on her hips, eyebrows knitted together in worry. She   
gathered her skirts together and fell into step with her older sister. "We   
need to talk," she whispered through clenched teeth. "What are we going   
to do with Nora? If she has a boy...."   
  
Berlyn lifted a thin eyebrow in smug amusement. "You think that   
after three girls she'd finally bear Father an heir?" Her chuckle was a light   
peal that ricocheted off the empty walls only to sink into the think carpet  
  
Elvira glared in response and put a finger to her lips. "Shhh, if   
someone hears us -" She twisted around as if she expected to catch a   
servant loitering in a doorway.   
  
Her sister merely snorted in disdain. "And who would hear us?   
Who would care if they did? They all know how Nora dealt Father's   
other mistresses one by one. No one cares shit about her."   
  
Elvira shrugged and countered, "You never know, the impossible   
has been known to happen. And if Nora gives Father a son, you know   
what we are? We're nothing, less than nothing."   
  
Berlyn smiled inwardly. She'd been working on her sister, subtly   
molding the other's thoughts and moods to suit her purposes. 'Now just   
a few more words, another choice phrase or two and I'll have her'. "Yes   
of course I know. If father doesn't have an heir he'll have to choose the   
next High Prince from among our sons." She patted Elvira's arm in feigned   
reassurance. "There are several servant girls who are at about the same   
stage as Nora. We'll switch the babies. Who cares if our stepbrother is   
a prince or a servant?"   
  
Elvira eyes lit up briefly, then fell in disappointment. "We have to  
marry and have sons before Father can even consider making one his   
heir. If only all successions were like the Desert…I still can't believe that   
bitch, Kerri, was allowed to inherit the crown in her own right - and while   
there was a younger brother alive as well!"   
  
Berlyn, though, wasn't paying attention to Elvira's ranting. Rather,   
she was trying to decide whether she should pass along the latest bit of   
gossip she had happened to overhear. "Oh, then I guess you'll be   
pleased to know that Kerri had an accident recently, a rather fatal accident   
actually - and that little twerp, Darien, is going to take the throne."  
  
Elvira regarded her older sister with poorly disguised suspicion.   
"And when did you begin to take interest in matters of state?" She pulled   
a paper fan from her waistband and pointed it toward her sister in   
accusation.   
  
Berlyn laughed, a low chuckle that reverberated through the empty   
hallway. "And when did you begin to take interest in my affairs? I'll do   
as I like. I always have, you know." She smiled patronizingly down at   
Elvira. "Haven't you heard? The walls are whispering - Father's going to   
try to marry one of us into the Desert Fortunes." And with a toss of her   
skirts she sauntered off, leaving her sister to her racing thoughts.  
  
Berlyn knew she'd find Nora still in bed. Eight months into a   
difficult pregnancy, the older woman hadn't made a public appearance   
before lunchtime in weeks. 'Father hates to see her pregnant anyhow'   
Berlyn though to herself as she made her way purposefully through the   
winding halls. 'And who can blame him? She looks like a bloated   
mushroom'. She threw open the doors to Nora's rooms, and her   
stepmother groaned in annoyance. "What do you think you're doing,   
Berlyn? For Heaven's sake, shut the doors."   
  
"Why, Nora? It's a beautiful summer day. Just look at the   
sunshine, how can you resist such an invitation for jovial frolicking?"   
She replied, tossing a silk dressing robe from closet to bed.   
  
"I can 'resist' because my poor ankles are swollen beyond   
recognition," she replied dejectedly. Nora pulled the covers up over   
her head and sighed heavily.   
  
"I do hope this will be the last one." Berlyn cooed in feigned   
sincerity as she drifted over to the bed and patted Nora's stomach   
gently. "You should really tell Father you're getting too old for this."   
  
Her stepmother shook her head in maternal acceptance. "You   
know how badly he needs a heir..." she began.   
  
And Berlyn frowned in disgust. 'Oh, ick, she actually likes it   
when Father appears unexpectedly in her bedroom at night…then   
disappears for the next nine months without a backward glance. Will   
wonders never cease'. Any previously entertained thought of spending   
the day attempting to gain Nora's confidence fled from her mind, and   
Berlyn turned away, disgusted. "Suit yourself then. Just don't go saying   
that I never warned you."   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien managed to evade Ariane until late afternoon, and when she   
finally cornered him in his rooms, he was reluctantly preparing for the   
coronation. She knocked twice upon his door, rattled the handle in disgust,   
and was pleasantly surprised to discover the Prince had been careless   
enough to leave the door unlocked. "Darien, you reprehensible scoundrel -   
I go to all the effort to drag myself out here to this wasteland you call a   
castle and you have the gall to scamper off and leave me to the mercy of   
that despicable arms master your sister employed - "  
  
With a smug grin, Darien gently took his Godmother's hands and   
brought them to his lips. "I'm glad you came, Ariane. You wouldn't have   
wanted to miss the coronation, would you?" He hoped to play to her   
weakness, a penchant for splendid occasions, but this time the older   
woman would not be diverted.   
  
"What I want to know is what you said to Serena after you so   
gallantly pulled her out of the river, why you left us all standing there and   
went galloping back to the Castle on that monstrous horse of yours, and   
why you've made no effort whatsoever to give your honored Commune   
Representatives any sort of official welcome. You do know who Serena   
is, don't you?" She pulled away from his grasp, hands planted firmly on   
her hips  
  
Darien grimaced, unsure of whether Ariane's asperity was genuine   
or merely feigned for his benefit. He breathed deeply, then turned away   
from her and continued laying out his clothes for the evening's event. "I'm   
surprised, Ariane. I would have thought that you, of all people, would   
have understood my position," he replied calmly. And Ariane smiled behind   
his back - oh yeah, she knew. "Tell me, Darien."   
  
It was those three words that gave her away, and Darien mentally   
relaxed, acknowledging that her curtness was merely an attempt on her   
part to bring difficult matters to the surface. She meant for him to use her   
as a sounding board, and for that he was grateful. "The Prince's Assembly   
convenes this summer, and Raonus will expecting that I'll be young, naïve,   
and ready to latch onto anyone who'll offer me the promise of support or   
alliance. I expect he'll try to get as much as he can out of me...treaties,   
trade agreements, or land. He'll probably also wave a marriage proposition   
underneath my nose." He shuddered at the thought of the High Prince's   
daughters, both legitimate and illegitimate, locked away at behind castle   
walls.   
  
Ariane sat down on edge of the bed, silently waiting for Darien to   
continue. Her fingers danced lightly over the silver embroidery at the cuff   
of the black jacket, tracing the subtle patterns the Prince was so fond of.   
  
"But, you know as well as I that if I were to marry one of the   
daughters I'd be counting down the days till my demise." Darien paced   
deliberately back and forth across the room as if the flow of his thoughts   
depended on the mileage covered.   
  
Ariane started noticeably at his comment; she hadn't expected him   
to see into the covert implications of Raonus' predicted offer and had   
sought to protect him by bringing Serena to his side - but she had to   
concede that she might have underestimated the young Prince. "Explain,"   
she prompted, eager to know the scope of the Darien's foresight.  
  
Darien played along without complaint. "Even Raonus wouldn't   
dare slight me by offering the hand of one of the illegitimate ones.   
Whichever of the others I took back to the Desert with me would bear   
a child sooner or later, and as soon at that day came, I would become   
expendable. With an infant on the throne and his daughter as its mother,   
I don't suppose the High Prince would think twice about annexing my   
lands onto his. Of course the vassals wouldn't hear a word of it, and   
they'd give him as good as they got, but the Desert hasn't had a standing   
army since my parents' time, and Raonus would win eventually...."   
  
"So you'll marry Serena before you leave as a safeguard against   
marriage propositions?" Ariane suggested with hope in her eyes. She'd   
be the last to admit to ulterior motives, but the life in her tone wasn't   
completely due to desire for Darien's safety and happiness.   
  
Darien's expression darkened, his eyes squinting into cold slits.   
"Just stay out of this, Ariane. Even you don't know everything." Then,   
with unexpected abruptness, his magnanimous nature got the better of   
him, and he added, "but I do plan on marrying her, and I promise you,   
I won't hurt her if I can avoid it."   
  
"I don't know what game you think you're playing..." Ariane   
scowled, preparing to wrestle her Godson's plan out of him even if she   
had to revert to somewhat primitive forms of torture, but even as the   
words left her mouth, a flash of inspiration floored her. "Why you   
conniving little rascal. I see what you're going to do. You're going to   
pretend to look over Raonus' daughters, tempting him with a marriage   
and getting him to sign papers while you deliberate." She waggled her   
finger at the Prince in warning. "He's not going to be pleased when you   
and ride off together into the sunset. Are you sure you can afford to make   
an enemy out of him?"   
  
Darien, if anything, was equally surprised and rather annoyed that   
Ariane had once again guessed his thoughts, but he somehow managed   
to keep his expression neutral, keep his brow from furrowing in frustration.   
"The risk is well worth what I hope to gain. I want to rule by the law not   
the sword. When I die, I don't want my promises to die with me...like my   
parents', like Kerri's." The tower bells chimed four, and Darien flinched;   
he hadn't realized how much of the afternoon had slipped away. "Thank   
you, Ariane. Thank you for bringing her to me." He came up behind her   
and caught her in a brief, plutonic embrace, his eyes glittering. "Just wait,   
I'll give Raonus a good run for his money. He won't ever know what hit   
him."   
  
Ariane laughed, suddenly feeling her years melt away. "Ah, well,   
let's just say, completely off the record, that I'm looking forward to   
watching you blink those big blue eyes of yours at the High Prince and   
trick him into thinking you're nothing but an imbecile. Only make sure you   
don't push him too far. He's quite nasty when he's angry; and believe me,   
I know." One hand on the doorknob, she tilted her head to the side, and   
with a light swirl of gray skirts disappeared into the hallway.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena lingered lazily in her room, supposedly recovering from the   
morning's trials but actually doing nothing more than enjoying the plush   
surroundings. Lady Ariane had been furious, simply livid, when the Prince   
had left them at the river, and Serena couldn't help feeling somewhat miffed   
as well. 'But he asked me to trust him, and I have to have faith that he   
knows what he's doing'. Her loyalty to someone she'd met once surprised   
her, but she rationalized her thoughts as she lay back on the bed and shut   
her eyes. 'He's always been in my dreams so it's not as he's a complete   
stranger'.  
  
"Ah ha, I was right. I knew your room was bigger than ours."   
Mina's excited voice startled Serena out of her peaceful mood. She poked   
her head through the doorway and then, without invitation commenced her   
exploration. "And you're the only one who had a private bathing room too!   
The rest of us have to share a common one at the end of the hallway." She   
nodded in satisfaction. "What does Lady Ariane know? She kept going on   
and on about the Prince's poor manners and about his lack of a proper   
upbringing, but I knew he'd make sure you were well taken care of - " and   
she grinned with a mixture of awe and amusement, " - after his behavior down   
by the river. Wasn't that so sweet?"  
  
Serena blushed and stammered evasively, "W-what behavior?" She   
shifted from her supine position on the vast bed, rolling onto her stomach,   
legs swinging in the air behind her.  
  
Mina faced her friend, hands on hips. "How couldn't you have   
noticed - Pulling you out of the river like he did? Talking to you on the   
shore? Do you realize how many people would give anything to be that   
close to the Prince...some to kiss him, some to stick a knife in his gut."   
  
Serena shrugged without commitment, although her stomach   
flipped at the mere idea of anyone wanting to hurt her Darien. "Hey,   
give me a break, okay? I'd just undergone a *life and death*   
experience, after all..." but a smile began to spread across her face, a   
smugness that lit her eyes and sunk dimples into her cheeks. "... I did   
notice, though. I'm not as blind as you guys think I am."   
  
"Ah ha, so the truth finally comes out," Mina replied with a hint of   
triumph in her voice. She threw open the doors to the wooden dresser   
and began to rummage through it. "Lady Ariane said that there were   
dresses in here that we could wear - considering that most of the baggage   
was lost to the river." She pulled out a long gown, deep marigold with navy   
a soft trim. "Oh my, have you ever seen anything quite like this?"   
  
It was beautiful, Serena had to admit that much. "When would you   
ever wear something so...formal?" she asked quietly, already knowing the   
answer.   
  
"To the coronation, silly. We've all been invited, you know." She   
held the dress up to her chest and twirled around the room. "While you   
were in here sleeping Lady Ariane told us that we'd all be going to the   
coronation tonight and that we'd find clothes to wear in the dresser in your   
room."   
  
Serena closed here eyes and groaned. "Lita's skirt will be up past   
her ankles, and I'll be tripping over mine. No one ever realizes that girls   
come in more than one size." But despite her complaints, she couldn't   
suppress her curiosity forever and eventually snuck up behind Mina to peer   
into the dresser. Her hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened.   
  
"It's perfect for you, isn't it?" her friend proclaimed, holding a   
simmering gown up before her. All Serena could do was stare.   
  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Left by Ariane to a maelstrom of swirling thoughts and emotions,   
Darien cast one last look toward the clothes piled upon his bed, then   
turned sharply and left the room. His boots struck the marble steps with   
ringing clarity, and he held his head high for the benefit of the servants who   
scurried past. Everyone was frantically preparing for the evening's great   
event, everyone save the main participant.   
  
He detoured from the main stairway and snuck into the quiet back   
hallways, glancing from side to side to see if anyone was watching. Silently,   
he lifted a frayed leather chord from around his neck, and, grasping the   
dangling key tightly, he leaned against a paneled door and slid the covering   
from a lock. A sharp clockwise twist of the key brought the familiar grating   
sound of bolts sliding, and with one last glance over his shoulder he stepped   
into the awaiting darkness.  
  
The winding stairway was not a landmark to be found on any floor   
plan of the castle. Wedged into the substructure by the first Princes of the   
Desert, it was meant to be used as an escape route by the royal family in the   
event of a prolonged siege. Darien, however, didn't see any reason why it's   
usefulness had to be restricted to such dire circumstances, and he often   
found himself feeling his way down the treacherous passage when he wished   
to escape from the endless monotony of life.   
  
It flowed into a narrow passage well beneath the castle grounds and   
then opened into the center of the gardens - a shady grove of overarching   
trees at the heart of the cultured maze. The gentle crashing of a languid   
fountain beat a lyrical melody upon the air of late afternoon, and Darien   
climbed the stairs back to the surface, squinting into the early-summer sun.   
  
He strolled, one foot placed unhurriedly in front of the other, and   
relaxed as the warmth of the atmosphere soaked into his back and shoulders.   
He knew the route by heart, and with one hand gently brushing the towering   
bushes, he could walk the maze with his eyes closed.   
  
And it was in doing just that that the Prince stumbled upon a   
newcomer in his gardens, a bewildered pixie with wide blue eyes and cheeks   
flushed in frustration. He reached for her arms without thinking, trying not to   
end up in an undignified jumble of arms and legs on the ground. He didn't   
realize who was standing before him until he felt the familiar tingle shoot   
upwards from his fingertips.   
  
"Please don't be angry," she began, not making any move to shy   
away from his touch. "I only wanted to see the gardens. One of the   
gardeners warned me away from the maze…but I couldn't resist a little   
peek, and then I couldn't find my way back out."  
  
It had been so long since he'd been truly lost in the gardens that   
Darien could only barely remember ever feeling frightened while amongst   
the greenery. But he could remember - and he gently shifted his grip from   
her arms to her shoulders. "Shhh, it's okay. Why would I be angry?" His   
voice was a low whisper in her ear. "Was I mad at you down at the river?"  
  
Serena found herself shaking her head and leaning into his arms   
before she remembered that they'd only just met - that it wasn't proper   
behavior to do so around someone as important as a prince, and a ruling   
one at that. Somehow it all seemed so perfectly natural. "No…" she   
admitted quietly   
  
"Come, I'll show you the center of the maze." He smiled and, as if   
suddenly becoming aware of their closeness, Darien disentangled himself,   
took a step to the side, and offered Serena his arm as any chivalrous prince   
was taught to do.   
  
"Go further into the maze you mean?" Her voice was tinged with   
disbelief as she responded, eyes narrowing. "This isn't some trick to lose   
me forever, is it?" She stood her ground, hands on hips, lower lip jutting   
out into space, and started at the Prince, not caring that she was a guest   
at his castle.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. I haven't gotten lost since I was five," he replied   
with a casual wave of his hand. "It's been helpful to know my way around."   
Tired of waiting, he reached for her hand and began to drag her in towards   
the center of the maze.   
  
And so they walked, one eager to share the sanctuary of his   
childhood with the angel from his dreams, the other following reluctantly   
behind, trusting her morning-savior but still thinking he was crazy nonetheless.   
  
Removed from the hectic bustle of the castle, the sky was a   
seamless expanse of blue marred only by the occasional cloud that tumbled  
head-over-heels in the breeze. The pebbled ground was warmly gray and   
brown beneath two pairs of feet, and as they neared the center of the maze,   
the greenery began to shift from cultured perfection to wild overgrowth,   
spilling into the path and obscuring the route. At one junction Serena was   
sure she spied the delicate pink blossoms of climbing roses out of the corner   
of her of her eye. At another, it was the gentle bobbing of orange lilies on   
their long stems that caught her gaze. But Darien's pace was too rapid for   
her to sit back and enjoy her surroundings - so she concentrated on not   
tripping on his toes.  
  
Their destination sprung up from the path without warning, an   
unexpected expanse of twisting foliage and flowing water. Serena gazed at   
the lushness of the scene before her, a richness that contrasted so harshly   
with the white desert sands beyond the walls. Even the air was devoid of   
the dryness that coated the throat and stung the eyes while out on the   
unprotected sands. "How?" she questioned, turning circles in an attempt to   
take everything in, "How is this possible?"  
  
Darien chuckled softly. "That's a question I should be asking you,"   
he replied. "My ancestors built the pipes that brought water to the surface   
from deep within the ground, but it was magic from the Commune that's   
kept them working for centuries." He left her side to prune dead leaves   
from a wisteria vine dripping with purple blossoms.   
  
"Do you take care of all of this?" The shock of stumbling upon   
such a place was beginning to wear off, and Serena followed at his heels,   
mind brimming with questions. "How did all these plants get here?"   
  
He paused in his work, fingers loving caressing the vine as he   
replied. "Yes...at first the gardeners would trim everything back, but after   
my parents died..." He resumed pruning, collecting the dead leaves in his   
left hand, "...I told Kerri that I wanted to take care of the center myself,   
and she told the gardeners to stay away. Not many people remember   
how to navigate the maze anymore."   
  
He moved on to the next wisteria, this one a soft pinkish-white.   
"You met Jack at the river, right? He's been the ferryman for years, and   
ever since he learned of my interest in horticulture he's kept his eyes open   
for anything beautiful...or unusual."  
  
Serena's gaze flickered from corner to corner, and she was still   
unable to believe that such a place existed. Even the arboretum at the   
Commune was a pale shadow in comparison. "And no one minds...?"   
The thought slipped out of her mouth without warning, and she cringed   
mentally, realizing how stupid she sounded.  
  
Darien, though, just chuckled, abandoning his wisteria to return to   
her side. "No, I can't say they do - it's one of the advantages of being a   
Prince, you know." With a good-natured shrug he led her to the side of   
the pond and sat down at its edge. In the shadow of an enormous maple   
tree, the water was a deep blue-green, alive with shifting shadows and still   
as the morning sky right before down. He dipped his fingers into the water,   
making languid ripples across the surface.   
  
"I first saw you here at this pond...Ariane conjured your face in the   
water," he explained with a quiet grin. "The pond was special to me then,   
but because of that night it means even more to me know." He met her eyes   
with sudden seriousness, his brow slightly furrowed. "I waited for you ever   
since, looked for your face in everyone who visited the castle, imagined what   
your voice would sound like...I always knew that one day we'd be together."  
  
She sat unblinking, as still as a butterfly pausing on a flower, her   
hands folded in her lap. "Me too...I'd dream of you, each night, dream of   
a shared future." But despite the feelings that raced through her body as   
she listened to him speak she couldn't shake the question that had been on   
the tip of her tongue since that morning. "But, Darien, what did you mean   
by what you said at the river?"   
  
He'd hoped to avoid the issue, hoped that it wouldn't invade their   
first conversations, but he knew that if anything they had to be honest with   
each other. He began to explain to her what he'd explained to Ariane,   
infinitely grateful that he'd had the practice in his rooms. His eyes never   
once left hers, and he didn't realize how fast his heart was beating until his   
voice trailed off in uneasy conclusion.   
  
And before he could catch his breath she'd all but thrown herself   
into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and almost toppling into   
the pond herself. "I knew it had to be something...something important."   
She looked up at him, the smile on her face and the dampness in her eyes   
sincere. "I haven't a clue how we're going to pull it off, but we're going to,   
you crazy prince, somehow we'll do it, together."   
  
  
*end of Chapter 3*  
  
Ah, finally...I must admit that I've completely forgotten what I've written in some   
of these chapters! All I can say is that it's quite fun to go back and reread the   
story...while making it better at the same time! Again, email is wonderful and   
always appreciated. I promise that I'll write back if you send me something, and   
I always love your comments (positive or negative) about this story. Please visit   
my website if you have the chance (http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/) because   
I'm trying to start a library ~ submit your fiction! There's also a story contest if   
you'd like to win a cool (in my view) prize!   
  
- Mir (12.10.00 ~ 04.05.01)  
.  



	5. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 4

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 4  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: Oh, I promised action, didn't I? Then I apologize,   
for there isn't overly much of that in this chapter either. I   
had a wonderful time writing it, though - I guess I'm just a   
hopeless romantic. So if you're looking for running and   
screaming, you may have to look elsewhere. Otherwise,   
please feel free to sit back and enjoy the show. ^_^  
  
*Chapter 4*  
  
The Great Hall was a buzz with hushed conversation. At tables   
illuminated by soft yellow candlelight various Lords and vassals murmured low   
words of impatience. Their places had been set with immaculate care, the   
silverware polished until it gleamed, the china spotlessly white. At each setting   
sat a delicate wine goblet spun out of blue glass. Dark twilight in color and   
inlaid with tiny golden stars, they added a finishing touch of formality to the   
event, a formality fitting for a pre-coronation dinner. But the guests fidgeted   
restlessly in their chairs, and even Ariane was tapping her fingers against the   
table in irritation. For nothing could begin until the Prince arrived, and Darien   
was conspicuously absent.   
  
Serena wound a stray strand of hair around her finger nervously.   
She couldn't help but notice Lady Ariane's quiet impatience beside her, and   
she wondered why, of all people, she was sitting at the high table. As the   
strand brushed her lips she caught it with her tongue and chewed on the ends -   
until Ariane put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. Serena blushed   
in embarrassment and quickly swept her hair safely behind her ears.   
  
She'd felt so confident before the dinner, so sure that she could   
converse maturely with people who were so much more important than herself.   
But she hadn't counted on their prejudices against those of the Moonlight.   
She could feel their eyes following her as she walked beside Lady Ariane,   
sense their suspicion and, in some cases, fear. She couldn't help but notice   
when their conversations faded away at her passing, couldn't fail to sense their   
relief that she wasn't going to sit at their table. Only hours after meeting him   
she'd already taken Darien's acceptance for granted. 'He knew what I was,   
and he didn't care', she thought with thankful relief.   
  
She was beginning to become worried that he wasn't going to   
show up, and was about to turn to her companion and inquire if the Prince   
was often late, when the doors once again opened, and a familiar silhouette   
appeared in the doorway. He nodded politely to the doormen and paused   
at the entrance long enough for all conversation to fade into silent anticipation.   
Then, with lightly echoing footsteps he strode through the sea of tables, head   
high, eyes dancing over the faces of the guests with calm assurance. His   
attitude was one of complete ownership and absolute confidence - until he   
met her eyes.  
  
Serena's heart beat rapidly, and she quickly averted her eyes,   
not out of a feeling of inadequacy but rather in fear that she might cause   
Darien, her Darien, to lose the assured jauntiness to his step. He did falter,   
but only briefly, one foot raised hesitantly in the air. Then it descended with   
the sharp sound of boot against tile, and he continued along his path to the   
only empty seat in the hall.   
  
When he reached the table he stopped and for an instant   
appeared to be unsure of what to do. He looked down at his place setting,   
and Serena wished more than anything that she could dash over to stand   
by his side, take his hand in hers and reassure him that he looked absolutely   
stunning. Dressed from head to foot in black with hints of silver at collar   
and cuffs, he seemed to carry his new responsibility with an ease that she   
envied.   
  
Just when the silence was becoming noticeable Darien cleared   
his throat and, placing his hands firmly on the table, addressed the Hall.   
"My Lords and Ladies of the Desert, I welcome you to Crystal Castle...and   
only regret the reason for our gathering here tonight. By now the smoke from   
your fires will be visible in other lands, and perhaps those who could not be   
with us tonight are celebrating the life of our Princess Kerri as well. There   
will be ample opportunity for me to introduce my policies on another occasion.   
Tonight isn't the time for such matters. I only ask that you remember my sister,   
remember her for who she was and don't think that her passing was in vain."   
It seemed for a moment like he was going to continue, but then the Prince   
nodded his head and gestured expansively, a sign for the food to be brought   
out.   
  
Serena watched as he sat stiffly in his chair, unable to relax   
under the watchful eyes of his vassals. Not that she could blame him.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien hadn't realized that he would be expected to address   
the hall and was berating himself for not planning out a speech beforehand.   
He'd been fine until he saw her, a shimmering cloud of white and gold,   
perched beside Ariane at the high table. Her eyes, the lightest of blue   
and sparkling with nervous excitement, met his, and his step faltered.   
'Please don't let anyone notice that I can't even look at her without   
melting' he though to himself, concerned with how he was going to maintain   
the charade at the Caucus.   
  
He barely noticed the food before him, and afterward couldn't   
have told anyone what it was that he'd put into his mouth. For all his outward   
show of confidence he was dreading the actual ceremony, dreading having to   
sit in the seat his sister had occupied only days before. Nonetheless, he   
gradually relaxed into the evening with a certain natural ease that comes as   
second nature to those born into the spotlight of attention.   
  
He avoided turning in her direction, questioning Andrew on the   
status of his horse breeding program instead. His brother-in-law was not of   
noble birth and so had been forbidden by Desert law to take the title of   
"Prince" beside Kerri, but he'd been a co-monarch in all but the title. 'I can't   
imagine ever losing her now' Darien thought, giving into impulse to steel a   
glance across the table.   
  
Her head was bent over her dinner plate, wisps of hair just   
barely missing the gravy as she pushed the food around with her fork.   
He'd had been selfish when he'd asked a place be set for her at the high   
table. He'd needed to have her near, wished she were beside him. 'At   
least she has Ariane. Andrew's nothing but a mental wreck...not that I can   
blame him'.   
  
He was startled when she suddenly jumped to her feet, chair   
tipping over behind her and landing with a crash on the ground. She was   
staring at a point somewhere over his left shoulder, eyes wide in fright, arms   
stretched out before her. The entire hall seemed to let out a collective gasp,   
and Darien was suddenly reluctant to discover what was behind him. But as   
Serena began to tremble, and he threw aside hesitation and pivoted sharply,   
drawing his sword in readiness.   
  
Whatever he was expecting, whatever he'd imagined - was not   
was he saw. A man, heavyset with dark hair, was less than two feet behind   
the table, knife clutched in his right hand. But more amazing, a wall of pure   
light, a shimmering transparency of silver moonlight, surrounded the attacker,   
blinding him with its brilliance.   
  
Behind him, Serena leaned against the table, and the wall faltered,   
then fell, its energy sinking soundlessly into the ground. Darien prepared himself   
to fend off an attack, but the man collapsed into a ball, curling up on the ground   
and holding his head. "Darien!" It was Andrew who appeared by his side first;   
the rest of the hall seemed to be paralyzed by the turn of events. "What the Hell   
happened?" He strode over to the man and poked at him with the toe of his boot.   
The attacker didn't stir.   
  
"I...I don't know," Darien replied, still frozen where he stood. He   
looked from Andrew to the man, then back over his shoulder to where Serena   
was trying, without great success, to right her chair. His sword fell to the   
ground, forgotten, and he was by her side in an instant.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
She didn't know what had made her look up at that instant, and she   
couldn't remember how she knew what to do. 'Never use the Moonlight to kill' -   
the ancient creed flashed across her mind, and she stilled her hand, not letting the   
circle of light contract further. It was the only thing that mattered, sustain the   
energy until Darien turned around.   
  
But then he turned, and she grabbed onto the table to stop from falling,   
unsteady with exhaustion. Her fingers trembled, unwilling to cooperate, and she   
knocked over her blue goblet, crystal splintering as it collided with the floor. She   
closed her eyes and tried to calm down, squatting and groping to her left and   
right for the chair she vaguely remembered tipping over. But instead of a wooden   
object, her hands found someone's leg, and her eyes flew open in wide surprise.   
  
She let him pull her into his arms, resting her head against his chest   
and listening to his heartbeat. They were silent, blissfully unaware of the dozens   
of eyes squinting in their direction. Then Lady Ariane cleared her throat and   
appeared at Darien's side. "Errumph...if you two have finished drooling over   
one another, I have a feeling that the rest of the guests might like it if you rejoined   
them."   
  
Serena blushed crimson, consoled only by the fact that Darien's face   
was the same shade, if not darker. "Yes, Lady Ariane," she replied quietly and   
began to slip from the Prince's arms back towards the table. But Darien only   
gripped her tighter. "Wait - are you sure you're alright? How did you do...make   
that wall - " She struggled, and he, not one to leave bruises on other people's arms,   
let her go. "Later...I promise. But your guests are growing impatient," she insisted,   
eager to get out of the spotlight.   
  
"No." His reply startled her; she hadn't been expecting it. Her eyes   
flashed dangerously, angered by the fact that he'd just brushed her off. But   
Darien took no regard. Instead, he took her hand, straightened his shoulders, and   
turned to face the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for the disturbance   
that you were just witness to. Believe me, I had no intention of letting such an   
event transpire tonight. As some of you may have seen, I own my life to the fair   
Lady Serena who is now by my side." He smiled, ignoring her attempts to free   
her hand. "And on behalf of the Desert and my family, I'd like to, in thanks, bestow   
upon her this gift."   
  
It was a small locket, star-shaped and glittering with tiny diamonds,   
that he pulled out of his pocket and fastened around her neck. Her gaze   
changed from irritation to wonder, and he whispered in her ear, "It was Kerri's,   
but I'd like you to have it." She brushed the top with her fingers and heard the   
faint hum of music. "Thank you...you shouldn't have." Darien glanced over his   
shoulder at Ariane, reassuring her that he wouldn't forget about his guests again.   
"Nonsense, I wanted to." He grinned, then left her, jauntily saluting to the hall and   
returning to his place.   
  
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of color and sound. She'd   
watched him alight to the throne after coronation ceremony and couldn't help   
but notice the empty seat beside him. She couldn't recall which of her friends   
had led her back to her room afterwards...Ami...that's who it was, always there   
when she needed help. Then she'd sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet   
swinging off the side, locket pressed next to her ear. She hummed along softly   
to the tune, memorizing the intonations.   
  
A rap on the door disturbed her. "Lady Serena?" The speaker was   
a boy, no more than fourteen, with bright red hair and excited green eyes. She   
nodded. "Milord Darien sent me to see if you could join him in the garden   
tonight." It was clear from his clothes that he was the Prince's squire, and Serena   
couldn't help but smile at the eager go-between. "Yes, yes of course. Tell him   
I'd love to...but that I don't know the way." And Justin nodded, "That's what   
I'm here for Milady. Are you ready to go? He's by the pond."   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien stood in the calm darkness of the gardens, hands clasped   
nervously behind his back. Andrew was forever berating him for pacing back   
and forth, but there was no brother-in-law to stop him tonight. His boots rasped   
against the pebbled walkway, polluting the tranquility with noise. He didn't notice   
the soft approach of a presence behind him, the presence he'd been waiting   
for. "Darien."  
  
He pivoted quickly, smile spreading across his face. "I knew you'd   
come." The moonlight illuminated his hair, glittered off of his silver trim. "I'm   
sorry about tonight." She was the one to close the gap between him. "I think you   
owe me an explanation." And he wondered where his timid sprite had vanished   
to, wondered but appreciated her confidence more.   
  
"I know, you deserve no less." She raised an eyebrow, unwilling to   
be sated by flattering words and caring eyes. "Tell me what you plan." Darien   
sighed, gesturing to a nearby bench and taking a seat beside her. "Do you know   
about the Caucus of Princes?" She nodded. "It's this summer..." And as he   
explained, as he had to Ariane, she squinted, forehead wrinkling.   
  
"I...I don't know," she replied, at the same time leaning against his side. "I   
want to trust you, so much, but I'm just not sure." Darien reached down,   
arm slipping around her protectively. "I can only promise that I'll never hurt   
you purposefully, but I that promise with all my heart." She snuggled closer,   
smiling quietly to herself. "The I guess that'll have to do, don't you think?"   
He nodded. "We'll have to do this sometimes when we're married."   
  
"But what'll your people think when they know that their Prince   
has to sneak around at night to spend time with his wife?" she asked, giggling.   
"Oh, Justin's discreet enough - he's nice, isn't he?" he replied, evasive, as   
usual. Serena look up, eyes glowing, "I bet you were cuter when you were   
a squire." Then before he had realized what happened her lips brushed his   
cheek and her shadow disappeared into the night. He brought his fingers up   
to feel the spot she'd touched, and he whispered softly to himself, 'I love you'.  
  
*end of Chapter 4*  
  
Sorry this part's taken me so long...I meant to get it out fairly   
expeditiously, but then vacation began...You know, spending an entire day   
on an airplane isn't too fun, that with layovers and all. Anyway, my apologies,   
and I'll start on the next chapter right away. I've also got a shorter work in   
progress - Happy holidays!  
  
- Mir 12.20.00  
.  



	6. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 5

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 5  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: I know there are some unanswered questions about   
~who~ Ariane and the girls really are and ~what~ they can   
do. If you're read the *Dragon Prince* you can think of   
them as the Sunrunners with a twist. If you haven't read   
the book you'll have to wait for me to explain. ~evil grin~   
Think of it as a kinds of enigma...I promise that it'll be   
crystal clear by the time this story is finished. :).  
  
  
*Chapter 5*  
  
It had been a month, a month of long nights and dull days, a month of   
listless longing and repeated disappointment. He'd slouched at his desk, chin   
in hands, staring blankly off into the distance - for hours at a time. Even Andrew   
had noted that the Prince seemed to be more distracted than usual 'if that's   
possible' he'd joked with a laugh. But Darien had to admit that there was truth   
in the accusation. His heart would beat faster every time he saw her in the halls,   
every time he heard her laughter, every time he saw her flying pigtails disappear   
around a corner ahead of him. She'd sent Justin back to him so many times that   
he'd stopped putting the squire in the awkward position of calling on her. She'd   
said that she had work to do, that Ariane was teaching her how to gain better   
control over her abilities. Darien was sure that she was avoiding him.   
  
And when he asked himself why he didn't insist that she meet with him   
he had to admit, with painful honesty, that her display at the dinner had scared   
him. 'She did it without ever thinking of the consequences. And she did it for   
me because she thought that I was in danger'. He knew it was foolish, but he   
didn't ever want to be the cause, the reason for Serena to break her vow - of   
never using the moonlight to kill. 'Ariane would disown her for sure...and she'd   
lose her title, her right to an equal seat as Princess of the Desert'. For the   
women whom the Goddess chose as Her own, those to whom She granted the   
ability to tame the moonlight, those mysterious individuals that children idolized   
and their parents feared - had equal status as the titled nobility in the eye of the   
Desert Law.   
  
But now, as the Desert train set forth across the drifting sands, commencing   
the journey to the Caucus, Darien knew that she had nowhere to hide. Ariane   
was riding beside him - he was surprised that she'd decided to stay at Crystal   
Castle and attend the Caucus instead of returning back to tend her fires. But one   
could never second guess Ariane, not even him. "You're angry at her, aren't you?"   
she asked, guiding her mount closer so they could speak in private. "You know   
she didn't have a choice."   
  
Darien scowled, he'd know, but he hadn't accepted it. "She could have at   
least written a note." Daffyd shook his head, mirroring his rider's agitation.   
"She's frightened, Darien. You had an entire childhood to get used to all those   
peoples' eyes...and they have no prejudice against you." He bit his lip, seeing   
the truth in Ariane's words, knowing how ill-based his anger was. "It's hard on   
her, and she's lonely. Talk to her, Darien, let her know you'll be there when she   
needs you."   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena pulled her hood down over her face, hoping that he wouldn't try   
to seek her out on the way to the Caucus. She hadn't wanted to go...didn't want   
to see him flirting with High Prince Raonus's daughters...didn't want him to break   
her heart, but she couldn't bear to be so far away from him either. She's avoided   
him for the past month, escaping evasively from his requests to see her. She   
knew they'd never be able to pull of the charade if they spent time together before.   
'I hope he realizes that I'd never ignore him purposefully'.   
  
"Serena." The call was light next to her ear, a soft breath drifting in the wind.   
She knew he was there. "Darien, I'm sure whether this is a good idea." He didn't   
leave. "Good idea, bad idea, what's the difference? I've missed you." Her resolve   
threatened to melt, and she only barely managed to keep her eyes glued to her   
saddle. "We'll never make it through the Caucus if we don't stay apart." She could   
almost feel his relief, relief that she hadn't been avoiding him out of revenge or spite.   
"I just want to see the High Prince's face on the last night...when I bring you into his   
hall on my arm, dripping with diamonds." He reached over to sweep the hood from   
her face, but she caught his hand in hers. "Please. Go...or we might do something   
we'll later regret."   
  
And before she realized what had happened, he was gone, disappeared   
into the sea of multicolored wagons that stretched out before her, wagons slowly   
making their way to lush green fields beyond the shifting sands.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien looked out over the tents and sighed. Green and black for Prince   
Laurent of Marintan, brown and orange for Prince Helder of Kerse, white and red   
for Prince Taro of Domar, purple and gold for High Prince Raonus of Princemarche...  
and so on an so forth. His own, flashing Desert blue and gold, were being erected   
by hired workers, their size and number a visible sign of his lands wealth. 'Desert   
gold' was a rumor spread from prince to prince, a rumor that the young Desert   
Prince had unimaginable wealth hidden in caves. 'And they think that I'd just hide it   
if I had it?' No, his parents had been eager conquerors, and his father's sword had   
won gold enough to last a lifetime, but Darien knew that he wanted to secure his   
future by law, not force; by treaty, not bloodshed.   
  
He turned away from the helter-skelter havoc of the camp site and walked   
along the lengthening shadows of late afternoon. The rich scents of midsummer   
encircled him, so very different from the rough, dry winds of home. These caressed   
one's frame instead of battering it. One foot landed in front of the previous, making   
tracks down toward the river. Drawn by the familiar crash of rushing water, he   
wandered in a dreamy state, thoughts lingering somewhere between sleep and   
wakefulness.  
  
And as he stood, contemplating and scheming, a flash of brown streaked   
out from the brush and roughly tackled him to the ground. Face down in the mud,   
Darien struggled underneath the weight of his tackler, eventually managing to free   
himself. "Lita?! What the Hell do you think you're - " She put a finger to her lips   
and glared at him. "Shh, I just saved your life; the least you could do is thank me."  
  
They lay there, side by side at the edge of the river, the only sound the rapid   
beating of their hearts, until Lita cleared her throat, signaling that the danger had   
passed. As Darien used his sleeve to wipe the mud from his eyes she reached   
behind her and pulled something out of the ground. She didn't have to say a word,   
but merely held up the object - a delicately inscribed glass knife. "My God, it's a   
Sheridian throwing knife...they - " Darien shook his head, lost for words. "It was   
a warning; if your attacker had been throwing to kill, you'd be dead." Lita twirled   
the knife pensively, its blade glimmering in the fading daylight.  
  
Darien held his hand out to take it from her. "Lita, thank you. You're right,   
I do owe you my life...even if it wasn't in danger today. I'm curious, though, how - "   
She smiled and interjected, "Haven't you noticed yet? One of us has been trailing   
you day and night since we left Crystal Castle, Ariane's orders." And while running   
his fingers along the length of the blade, Darien sighed. "That would be just like her,   
wouldn't it...and you were the lucky one today?" It was a rhetorical question, and   
she didn't reply. "I don't think Sheridia would do something so overt on their own...  
someone must have hired a mercenary." Lita nodded slowly, digestion the idea.   
Sheridia was a small Princedom nestled high in the mountains between Domar and   
Kerse. It was a notorious haven for criminals and outlaws. "We should probably   
be heading back," she commented after a moment. Still deep in thought, Darien rose   
and followed her lead.   
  
Almost an hour later he was pacing back and forth underneath the blue canopy   
of his tent. 'Who would gain something by having me scared...if Lita was correct in   
thinking that the knife was aimed to scare, not kill?' He'd placed the weapon at the   
bottom of his trunk, deciding not to tell Ariane; he didn't want to worry her. 'I didn't   
even hear anyone coming, neither Lita nor the Sheridian'. He mused, angry at himself   
for being so out to lunch. But by the time he crawled into bed he was no closer to   
formulating a theory, no closer to determining an answer or a motive. He closed his   
eyes and sunk into unconsciousness, his last thought drifting away into the night. 'I   
must be on my guard...'.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
"What do you think of the Bay? The one with the odd markings on her   
forelegs?" Andrew asked, looking over at Darien expectantly. "You think she's a   
potential threat?" He was a topnotch horse breeder, traditionally taking home a fair   
number of racing prizes at the Caucuses, and he enjoyed sizing up the competition.   
Darien raised an eyebrow in skeptical amusement. "Oh, my great infallible   
brother's worried now?" he joked. Then he squinted at the mare, scrutinizing her   
with an experienced eye. "Couldn't hold a candle to your best, I guarantee it.   
Whose is she, anyhow?"   
  
"Lord B'rjared's, I think," Andrew replied offhandedly as he continued along   
to the next stall. "Now, what do you think about this one..." And so the morning   
progressed. The races would begin that afternoon, the official talks between Princes   
the next - they'd last four days with the concluding feast on the evening of the fourth.   
As Andrew continued tirelessly down the length of stalls, Darien let his mind wander   
across the odd happenings of the previous evening. 'Many of the Princes would have   
something to gain by having me scared. Someone might be trying to frighten me into   
signing an alliance against Sheridia'.   
  
"Darien? You falling asleep on me?" He, the accused, turned toward Andrew,   
blinking blankly. "Say what?" The other smiled in triumph. "I knew it! You start to   
get this look in your eyes that means I've lost you and you're drifting aimlessly about in   
that crazy mind of yours. Whatcha thinking about?" Darien shook his head, muttering,   
"Don't worry, it's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." He managed a limp grin in   
reassurance. "You were telling me about Emerich's Chestnut gelding, weren't you?"   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena clapped her hands gleefully and turned back to her companions. "Oh,   
isn't this wonderful? Have you ever seen anything like it?" Hoards of people, from   
the aristocratic nobility down to the barefooted stable hands, roamed from booth to   
booth, shopping. None were above a little shoving to obtain a better view of the   
available wares, and none were overly hesitant to open their purses, exchanging gold   
for goods. Although the Princes came to the Caucus to negotiate, their vassals came   
to the Caucus to shop.   
  
Eyes wide with excitement, Serena dashed from booth to booth, her friends   
struggling to keep up with her. Finally she paused at a cloth dealers' stand, elbows   
resting on the counter as she talked with man. "Can I see that white bolt - over there,   
top shelf?" She waited as he retrieved the fabric and placed the bolt before her. It   
was embroidered white silk, light as a fluttering breeze. "Ooh, that's nice." Mina   
leaned over Serena's shoulder and rubbed the edge of the fabric between her fingers.   
"I need enough to make a dress. How much would that cost?" Serena continued,   
ignoring the interruption. The dealer squinted for a moment, then replied. "forty-eight   
will buy you enough."   
  
Serena was slightly surprised, but was about to reply that she'd take it, when   
a voice piped up behind her other shoulder. "It's not worth more that thirty-two."   
She turned quickly, only to discover a smiling Ami. "What's that you say?" The man   
said in response, apparently one for driving a hard bargain. "I said, it's not worth   
more than thirty-two," Ami repeated quietly. "Yeah, you heard her," Rei interjected,   
adding her support.   
  
The dealer crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking. "I'll give it to you   
girls for forty even." Serena scowled. "We're ~not~ just girls, you know, we're - "   
A hand on her mouth stopped her from finishing the sentence. "We'll give you thirty-  
five," Rei countered. Switching her grasp to Serena's arm, she whispered, "What do   
you think you're doing? If they know we're from Moonlight Keep they'll never sell us anything." "Thirty-nine, take it or leave it." The dealer replied, deciding to ignore   
whatever internal power struggles his customers were dealing with. And before any   
of her friends could answer for her, Serena proclaimed, "I'll take it."   
  
Unknown to the girls, another party of shoppers was watching them with   
undisguised disapproval. Berlyn turned to Elvira and said, in a voice just loud   
enough for those nearby to hear, "Moonlight, shmoonlight, they might be the   
Goddess's chosen, but they don't even know how to drive a good bargain." She   
held her head high as she approached the booth, confidence in her step. "I heard   
you all arrived here with the Desert train," she announced, disdain clearly coloring   
her voice.   
  
"And what of it?" Rei was the first one to react, eyes flashing in anger.   
"What's it to you?" Berlyn chuckled lightly. "Oh, it's nothing to me. I was just   
wondering why you're tagging along like some Prince Darian-fan-club. They've   
always said you've certain powers, but now I see you're nothing more than a   
bunch of adolescent girls." A small crowd of people had begun to develop   
around the booth. Ignorant of the younger girls' status, they nonetheless   
recognized the purple seal of the High Prince embroidered upon the older girls'   
cloaks.   
  
"Lady Berlyn, I don't think this is the place - " Ami said calmly, pulling the   
other's name out of a mental list of important people whose names it would be   
useful to know. "And why not? We all wear our alliances on our backs. What   
gives you the right to remain anonymous?" the Berlyn replied. "We've just as   
much right as the next person," Lita countered irritably. The two groups glared   
at each other, both with accusations enough to fling but neither wanting to be the   
first to flinch.   
  
"Let me propose a bet." Serena said suddenly, breaking the stalemate.   
"What kind of bet?" Berlyn responded, slightly suspicious. "I want to bet that   
neither you nor any of your sisters will win Prince Darien." Berlyn grinned, rolling   
her eyes. "And who do you think will 'win' him instead? You can't possibly   
think that you have the slightest chance do you?" She paused for a moment,   
reading Serena's reaction. "Ah, I see you do...very well, then. I'll wager all the   
silver I have on...against - "   
  
" - against this locket...and my right to keep my private affairs private,"   
Serena replied, finishing the statement." Berlyn leaned forward to inspect the   
locket Serena held in her hand before her, noting the excellent craftsmanship and   
the unique inlaid pattern. "Done." She turned to leave, haughty confidence in her   
expression. "I'll be expecting...your trinket at the last dinner of the Caucus."   
And with that she disappeared into the crowd, Elvira at her heels. "What a pair   
of snobs!" Mina proclaimed, shaking her head. "Are you finished buying that   
silk, Serena? The horse races are going to begin any minute now, and I don't   
want to miss a single second!"  
  
*end of Chapter 5*  
  
Oof, another chapter finished (and in record time as well!). Hope   
you enjoyed...tell me if you liked it and want some more :). Do you want   
to see more of a certain character? Do you have any ideas for my website?   
Do you just want to say 'hi'? I promise that I don't bite.... I'm an intj from   
Washington, DC - drop me a note and I promise I'll reply. ^_^  
  
- Mir 12.23.00  
.  



	7. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 6

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 6  
rating: PG-13  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: Please note the upped rating on this section. I'm fairly   
sure that the next section will carry a PG-13 rating as well   
(although for different reasons *g*). In this chapter, the rating   
is for violence...nothing overly nasty - but more than merely   
implied (as it was in the prologue). I figure it's better to over-  
rate than pull readers into something they would rather not   
read. That's all. So sit back and enjoy - and if you have snow,   
take advantage of it and make a snow angel ^_^.   
  
  
*Chapter 6*  
  
The first race had just begun, and Darien stood at the edge of the track,   
hands anxiously clutching the railing. People passed behind him, never suspecting   
that the quiet young man who cheered for Lord Andrew's horses was actually the   
Prince of the Desert. He leaned forward as the horses passed, breeze ruffling his   
hair. For the last several Caucuses the purses for the races had consisted of gems   
instead of money, and this current one was no exception.   
  
"Grant's Pass for emeralds, all competitors to the starting point immediately!   
Final call for Grant's Pass," the announcer bellowed, and Darien sighed, wondering   
if ~she~ was watching the races as well. As he waited for the second race to   
begin, he turned his back to the track (for although each race had a different route   
they all started and finished at the same point) and watched the other spectators   
pass by. "Enjoying the races Milord?"  
  
He looked around upon hearing the familiar voice, eyes finally resting upon the   
head of his squire, Justin, who was proudly decked out in Desert blue and gold.   
"Yes...I guess so." The reply was ambivalent, apathetic, but he smiled reassuringly,   
and Justin, satisfied, began to walk away. Darien reached out and grabbed his arm   
before the squire had gotten far. "Say, Bronshire for diamonds, is that the sixth race?"   
He tried to sound nonchalant, but Justin caught the yearning in the Prince's voice, and   
his eyes glittered compatrioticly. "Aye...should I saddle Daffyd for you...?"   
  
Darien nodded. "Yes, but keep it quiet." He didn't know what compelled him   
to participate in an activity that Ariane had disdainfully termed 'reckless' and 'foolish'   
only hours before. Bronshire was a trail that wound down away from the starting   
point, a rocky path through the woods followed by a long stretch across an open   
meadow. 'Even with the diamonds there shouldn't be too many entries', he thought   
to himself as he began making his way discretely toward the stables. 'Many breeders   
wouldn't risk their horses beneath the trees'.   
  
He changed into the clothes that Justin had laid out for him, jersey brightly   
proclaiming his rank and homeland. 'Oh well, I guess there's nothing I can do   
about that. Obscurity is a privilege I was forced to give up long ago'. As he   
regarded himself in the dressing room mirror he couldn't help but notice the dark   
circles under his eyes, evidence of the past month. "I had to tie weights into   
Daffyd's saddle, Milord, so remember that he won't be able to respond as quickly   
as you're used to." Justin shrugged. "Even with your height you're still under the   
minimum weight requirement."   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head into Rei's shoulder.   
"Ooh, I can't watch, I can't watch," she proclaimed as the thundering horses   
raced toward the finish line. She lifted her head to peek. "Hey, Serena, lay off   
a bit, will you? I'm going to have bruises all up and down my arm," the other   
responded, not wishing to become a human pillow. All the girls were sitting   
in the stands watching the races and chatting in between, but despite the festive   
atmosphere, none could banish completely from her mind the earlier incident at   
the cloth booth, Serena especially.  
  
She had seen Berlyn walking down by the race track but had lost sight of   
her in the sea of brightly-garbed people. The princess had replaced the conspicuous   
purple cloak with a simply-colored dress, and Serena hypothesized that she   
must have decided to keep a low profile. 'I wonder what she's thinking, what   
she's scheming'.   
  
But she let her thoughts about Berlyn slip from her mind as the announcer   
called the next race. "Bronshire for diamonds. Will all competitors now..." She   
glanced briefly at the riders, looking to see if any of them wore Desert colors -   
and almost fell out of her seat when she saw the Prince himself sitting proudly   
atop his eager mount. Words escaped her, but she grabbed the nearest arm she   
could find and pointed madly in his direction.   
  
- - - - - - - - -   
  
He could feel Daffyd tense beneath him as they stepped out onto the track.   
The horse was too well-trained to fidget or bolt but was nonetheless anxious to be   
off. 'The best of Andrew's stock', he thought to himself, reaching down to gently   
slap his neck. 'If he can't leave the rest of these riders in the dust, no one can.'   
As the other competitors joined him at the starting line he sized up the competition,   
mentally noting which horses and riders bore watching. 'The far one with the white   
foreleg looks pretty fast; there's some good breeding in its shoulders...' And so the   
long minutes before the start passed.   
  
When the race began he didn't need to urge Daffyd to go faster, the horse   
knew. He could barely see where they were going, so thick was the dust thrown   
into the air by dozens of pounding hooves. 'Why did I think this was going to be   
fun?' he thought to himself as he held on for dear life, but as the horses left the   
starting point and turned into the woods he could see that there were only two   
riders ahead of him. So he leaned forward, trying to reduce the air resistance as   
much as possible. 'If I have to go through with this I might as well try to win while   
I'm at it.'  
  
Branches seemed to sprout out of nowhere, snapping in his face and slashing   
painfully across his back. The trail was narrow, barely wide enough for two horses   
to fit abreast, and when the horse ahead of him slipped and fell Daffyd was forced to   
execute a hasty jump to keep from trampling the fallen animal. If Darien had already   
had second thoughts at the beginning of the race, he was terrified now, not caring if   
he won, but merely wanting to reach the finish line alive. His heart raced at a fantastic   
pace, pounding so quickly that his head spun, and he almost lost his tenuous grip as   
Daffyd went careening around a sharp bend.   
  
He risked a glance behind him and saw only quickly retreating trees vanishing   
from his line of sight as Daffyd sped onward. He'd stopped trying to guide the horse   
long ago, deciding it was safer to place his trust in his mount's instinct and footing   
then leave the situation open to human error. As the world flashed by in a blur of   
terrified hyperventilation, Darien was astonished to see the rider ahead of him   
twist around in his saddle and pull something from his boot.   
  
But before he could figure out how the rider had enough balance to do so,   
a glass blade sliced silently though the air, barely missing his left ear; Darien's mouth   
dropped open in surprise. 'What the Hell?' The rough forest terrain flattened itself   
into open meadow below him, and sunlight once again streamed down upon the   
racing pair. The front rider again twisted round, and Darien, try as he might, couldn't   
get Daffyd to turn away, so intent was the horse on gaining the lead. He watched the   
other raise he arm, aim, and release...but in the slit second as the knife left the attacker's   
hand a blinding flash of light appeared before him, and he was thrown from his rearing   
horse, falling limply to the ground.   
  
Daffyd ran on, and Darien slumped forward, right hand reaching for the   
glass knife embedded in his left shoulder. Blood dripped onto the earth below,   
leaving a red trail back to the scene of the attack. He barely noticed as Daffyd   
trotted across the finish line, sides heaving and mouth foaming but head held   
proudly, barely noticed the astonished gazes of the spectators to see the Prince   
of the Desert bleeding before them. The world spun briefly, then faded into   
blackness, and for that Darien was infinitely grateful.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
As the horses left the starting line Lady Ariane's words of teaching   
flashed across her mind. 'If you're confident in your abilities you can weave   
yourself into the sunlight as easily as you can the moonlight.' So she reached   
upward, stepping outside herself and following Darien along his terrifying flight   
toward the forest. She watched as one rider tumbled off of his horse only   
just managing to scramble out of the way of fashing hooves, watched as   
another rider flicked his whip across the hindquarters of the his neighbor's mount.   
  
She lost sight of him when he entered the forest, the leaves filtering   
the sunlight and obscuring her vision. But as she closed her eyes she could   
taste his fear, her heart beating in time with his. Oblivious to her surroundings   
she waited, holding her breath and praying for his safety.   
  
Then the two lead horses emerged from the woods, and Serena gasped   
as she saw the front rider raise his arm, glass blade glittering in the sunlight.   
She didn't stop to think but rather threw whatever power she could gather at   
him, enveloping him in a brilliant flash of light and heat. Her eyes followed   
his descent to the ground, and she could feel his death, sense that she'd   
committed an unspeakable crime. But her thoughts immediately gravitated   
back upon the lone rider cantering back toward the spectators, and she flinched   
when she saw the red trail stretching out behind him.  
  
And then she was back in her own body, breathless and pale. She   
blinked, clenching her hands into fists then slowly releasing them. Her gaze   
fell to the racetrack where Daffyd was arriving, clearly pleased with himself   
for winning over younger horses. But her eyes were for her Prince only, and   
she gasped as she saw him slide limply from the saddle onto the ground.   
Lady Ariane was there, hovering over him like a mother hen, and Justin soon   
arrived, leading Daffyd off to be sponged down.   
  
Serena was stunned, shocked, too alarmed to do anything beside hold   
her breath and stare. Her actions, with distasteful clarity, were returning in   
rapid succession. 'What have I done, what have I done?' Her friends, unaware   
of Serena's role in the unfolding occurrences, assumed she was reacting to the   
Prince's condition and tried to offer their encouragement. Serena brushed   
their comments off with uncharacteristic disinterest. 'I killed him. I felt him   
die. But what could I do? What else could anyone have expected me to do?'   
  
Finally acknowledging the worried gazes of her friends, she smiled   
slightly, then slipped from the stands before anyone could stop her. Blind to   
the ever-shifting crowd of spectators, she traveled wherever her feet would   
take her, not really caring where she ended up. 'Lady Ariane will disown me   
for sure, and Darien will hate me, and my friends will think I'm such a terrible   
person, and...'. She glanced up at her surroundings, and her train of thought   
faded as she beheld the familiar dark blue canvas of Darien's tent.   
  
She pressed her ear up to the side, straining to her whether voices   
conversed inside, but heard only silence. So, with caution, she pulled open   
the entrance flap and stuck her head inside. "Ack! Don't hurt me!" she   
yelped, scrunching her eyes shut, afraid to watch, and Justin lowered the   
knife he'd been about to throw, sighing. "Sorry, Milady, you scared me."   
  
'Yeah, and you scared me as well', she grumbled to herself, stepping   
inside and closing the flap behind her. "Good thing you didn't throw that,"   
she replied with a quick grin. "I don't think Darien would have been too   
happy to find me lying outside with a knife through my heart." Her eyes   
glittered in jest, humor gained from another brush with disaster. "By the way...  
where is he?" she inquired, self-pity temporarily replaced by concern for the   
one she had saved.  
  
"Oh he's here Milady, come with me." And in the back of the tent lay   
her Darien, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him look in weeks. 'Pity he's   
unconscious...I need to talk with him, and he looks so peaceful...so receptive.'   
She knelt down beside the bed. "Is, is he alright?" Justin nodded. "Aye,   
Lady Ariane just left a few moments ago. She said that he'd merely fainted   
after the race and that the only thing that bears watching is the wound to his   
shoulder. It's not serious unless it gets infected, but you know how   
preoccupied the Prince is at times...."  
  
Serena nodded, taking Darien's hand. His eyelids fluttered, and she   
asked Justin quietly, "Could you give us just a moment in private?" So, the   
squire, ever the romantic, grinned as he retreated back into the front room.   
Darien opened his eyes, blinking the semidarkness, and cleared his throat.   
"Serena? Wh-where did you come from?" She smiled, sitting down next to   
him on the bed and placing a finger to his lips.   
  
"Shh...everything's alright. I don't know whether to hug you or skin you   
alive for that act you pulled out there on the racecourse. I suppose Lady   
Ariane's fit to be tied...but the only thing that matters is that you're back and   
you're safe." He reached up, fingers cupping her cheek then drifting over to   
sweep the strands of hair from her face. "I've forgotten how beautiful you are   
when you're mad a me," he murmured, shifting slightly.   
  
"And who says I'm mad at you?" she countered, helping him sit up. He   
raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That certain twitch of your mouth," he replied,   
touching the offending dimple gently. "We have to promise to always be honest   
with each other, Serena - always ." She stifled a sigh. 'does he suspect   
something? Suspect that I had something to do with the events at the race   
course and is testing me...?' she thought to herself, debating whether or not the   
moment was right...for her confession.   
  
"Darien," she caught his attention with seriousness of her tone, effectively   
dampening the mood, "I, I have something I need to tell you." And to his credit,   
his expression of patient indulgence didn't waver at her remark; he nodded, pulling   
her in toward him until her head rested against his chest. "In the garden, after the   
coronation dinner, you asked how I had created the wall, and I put the explanation   
off until later - " she began, wiggling a bit as she settled down beside him. "And   
the time is now?" he replied, hoping that no one would walk in and see them so   
close together.  
  
"Well, you said we had to be honest with each other," she teased gently.   
"That I did." He winced slightly as her head brushed against his bandaged   
shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice . "For as long as recordkeepers have kept   
their records, the Goddess has granted special innate abilities to Her chosen, but   
although these gifts are present from birth, they must be cultivated, developed, and   
trained. It is the job of the Lady of Moonlight Keep to locate those whom the   
Goddess has chosen and train us to our full potential." Darien nodded; all of this   
was relatively common knowledge, at least among princes.  
  
"She found me when I was no more than four or five and brought me to   
the Keep. She and the other girls are the only family I can really remember...  
but when I was about ten I began having these dreams, dreams of a handsome,   
dark-haired man," She looked into his eyes, implications of the previous statement   
clearly written across her face, "and Lady Ariane promised me that someday I'd   
meet him. I think that's what kept me going throughout the years, her promise that   
one day...I'd be with you."   
  
Darien, at first surprised by her choice of words, leaned back against the   
pillows, eyes half-closed in thought. "It's odd, the way you put that," he began.   
"When I was six my parents were killed out on the desert sands, betrayed by   
their own guards, and Ariane came to me in the dark of night. Kerri was there,   
holding my hand protectively, but Arian pulled me away, away to the center of   
the garden, and showed me...a conjure of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen   
in my life, promised me that one day we'd be together." Again, his eyes gave him   
away, proclaiming the identity of his elusive maiden. "From that day forth I looked   
at every light-haired women who came to the Castle, ever hopeful that the promised   
day had come...and then it did."   
  
"Do you think?" Serena replied with a giggle. "Do you think that Lady   
Ariane brought us together for a purpose?" Darien shook his head. "It's always   
a possibility, but I prefer to think it's something beyond the desire of mere   
mortals, Ladies of Moonlight or not - your Goddess, perhaps?" She stiffened   
at his implication of divine intervention. "I, I don't know...we don't presume to   
know the Goddess's intentions...but there is ~something~, isn't there?" she   
responded, afterthought softening her initial response.   
  
"I've learned a lot since I came to Crystal Castle, Ariane's taught me   
well. The night of the coronation I had no idea what I was doing; I acted out   
of instinct. Today, my actions were purposeful, and no longer can I use   
innocence to plead my case..." and in whispered tones she described how she   
had used her powers during the race. "...I didn't mean to kill, I never meant   
to take a life. Lady Ariane's going to disown me for sure when she finds out...  
oh!" She was sobbing now, soaking Darien's sheets while he tried to comfort   
her.   
  
"And how do you know Ariane's going to find out?" he implored,   
indirectly adding his support for her actions. Serena was taken aback, both by   
his observation and the fact that he didn't appear to be mad at her. "Wh-what   
do you mean?" He grinned, that cocky self-assured smirk that had won her   
heart. "Well, you keep moaning and groaning about how the world is going   
to come to an end because Ariane's going to disown you, but how's she going   
to find out that you -unintentionally- killed a man (who was, in the mean time,   
intent on killing me) in the first place?" She blinked, absorbing his words. "I   
don't know, I guess you have a point...but itstilldoesn'tmattershe'sgoingtokillme."   
  
Darien shook his head, able to spot a hopeless case a mile away.   
"Come, Serena," he cooed, rubbing her back with his good arm. "Don't be   
upset. I'm so proud of you for what you did today...does it really matter what   
my cranky, old Godmother thinks anyway? What she doesn't know can't   
hurt her, right?" And Serena, blinking away her tears, blew her nose on the   
edge of Darien's sheets. "Oh, you're right...you always are."   
  
  
*end of Chapter 6*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Are you ready for the next chapter? Ooh, I am ;) - but it's not written   
yet. Remember, patience is a virtue. Anyhow, school is scheduled to   
begin soon, so (baring any major blizzards or like occurrence) there will   
probably be slightly longer time lapses between forthcoming chapters.   
Sorry for the inconvenience, but real life beckons, and I've no choice but   
to follow.   
  
- Mir 12.27.00  
.  



	8. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 7

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 7  
rating: PG-13  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: Again, please note the upped rating on this section. In   
this chapter, the rating is for content...nothing overly shocking -   
but more I think it warrants to upped rating. I figure it's   
better to overrate than pull readers into something they would   
rather not read. That's all. So sit back and enjoy -   
  
  
*Chapter 7*  
  
  
Darien, sitting quietly at his place at the table, looked around at the   
other Princes and sighed. 'Why is it that I'm always surrounded by idiots and   
schemers?' he wondered, forcing a smile as Prince Helder concluded his p  
roposition with a grand flourish of his hand. It was the first day of the political   
deliberations, and Darien wished with all his heart that it were the last.   
  
"I support Helder's concept, but what if a group of rebels from Kerse   
decide to cross into Domar?" Prince Taro replied with vehement concern.   
"If I'm supposed to lend my support against border disputes on his side, why   
can't he pledge to help me with disputes on my side as well?"  
  
"It's your problems that are causing all the trouble," Helder responded   
with undisguised scorn. "If you'd only keep them to yourself I wouldn't give   
a damn, but they're spilling over the border and causing problems for my vassals.   
Anyway, if you can't keep your own people under control how can you expect   
me to come and do it for you?"   
  
"How are you even sure where the border is exactly?" Taro retorted   
angrily, slamming his fist down upon the table. "How can anyone be sure?   
We've all got our own maps, don't we? But whose do we go by, um?" He   
stared at the others as if challenging anyone to oppose him.   
  
"Wait." Darien sat forward, hands resting on the table. "There's no   
point in arguing over this today. We've each got our own records, for sure,   
but there's no way to tell whose are correct until we've had time to sort through   
them." He paused, but when no one spoke up shrugged and continued. "I   
propose that when we return home we each gather up the records and bring   
them to the next Caucus for discussion...then we can decide on permanent,   
lasting boundaries with the help of an uninterested mediator."   
  
He hadn't realized it before, but he was certainly aware of it now. 'They   
fight like children, and Raonus just sits back and watches. He wants them at   
each other's throats...that's how he keeps them in line.' Surprisingly no one   
had shot down his proposal - yet.   
  
"I second Darien's idea." Helder's support was pure music to his ears,   
and he listened with interest as the older Prince continued. "And I also want to   
add Lady Ariane as a possible mediator. She's got her own land and is fairly   
autonomous in her own right." Several other heads nodded, but it was the High   
Prince who snatched the baton.  
  
"I, myself, question her impartiality," Raonus commented, voice low but   
firm. "After all, didn't she arrive with the Desert train?" He met Darien's eyes   
cooly. Suddenly a low murmur rose from various seats as the princes began   
to take sides. Darien sighed. It was only the first day, and his head already   
ached.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena lay in the grass, fresh scent tickling her senses as she gazed   
dreamily up at the setting sun. It had been awhile since she'd last thrown   
herself into a fragrant carpet of greenery. The Desert's arid climate was   
absolutely rotten when it came to late summer grass. She rolled onto her   
stomach, closing her eyes and dozing as the sun sank below the horizon.   
  
The temperature began to drop as twilight spread out across the sky,   
smothering the remnants of daylight in hazy darkness, and she shivered.   
Hands in pockets she wandered down to the river shore, gaze watching   
the clouds pass in front of the moon. They drifted by, wispy shadows of   
darkness that danced and spun to the song of the wind. And as always,   
her thoughts flew home to Darien.   
  
'What if he's right. What if we're merely pawns to Lady Ariane's plans,   
whatever they may be' she mused, pausing at the water's edge to stare vaguely   
off into the distance. Her foot hit something hard, and she reached down to   
explore the ground with her fingers - three moonstones, glistening with water   
and worn smooth by the river's motion. She dropped them in her pocket and   
sighed.   
  
'But if she expects us to be together how can she expect me to continue   
to be true to who I am? I killed for him yesterday...and I would do it again   
tomorrow if he asked.' She was frightened, frightened by the power she held   
and frightened by the power he held over her. 'I love him, which matters more   
to me than any vow I made to Ariane.'   
  
She kicked at the dirt with her foot, chewing on her lip in frustration.   
'How dare the princesses think that they even have a chance at winning his   
heart.' But then she found herself chuckling, wrapping her arms around her   
chest in giddy amusement. 'Because he's mine, all mine'  
  
"Your laughter is as lovely as your face, Lady Serena." He stood   
there, tall and straight-backed, dark hair illuminated by the light of the moon.   
But there was grey at his temples, and his arms were folded across his chest,   
his chin held high in confidence.   
  
She turned in astonishment, thinking that she was alone underneath the   
stars. "Prince Raonus," was her stammered reply as she dropped to one   
knee, eyes fixed on the patch of grass by his boots.   
  
"I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you," the other replied, placing a   
hand on her arm to pull her back to her feet. His eyes, dark brown in color,   
met hers, and his mouth twitched into a half-smile. "My daughter Berlyn   
described you as proud and arrogant, but from what I've seen you're anything   
but."   
  
"I...I wouldn't know, your grace." She shifted slightly within his grasp,   
dusting the dirt from the front of her dress. Her senses were heightened by   
recent thoughts, she could feel the masculinity in his touch, sense his attractiveness,   
and it frightened her. "Is the banquet over?"  
  
"Nora sleeps better on the barge than in our tent," he explained, finally   
letting his arm drop to his side. "The dinner began early, and I'm thankful it   
didn't end too late. There's so much to be accomplished these next few days."   
He sighed, stepping close beside her. "But I found myself wakeful and thought   
that a quiet stroll alongside the river would do wonders for calming anxious   
nerves. It is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"   
  
Resisting the urge to step backwards and then flee into the darkness,   
Serena forced a smile and replied through clenched teeth, "Very beautiful,   
your grace." The High Prince nodded, reaching for her hand. "Would you do   
me the honor of sharing the moonlight with me tonight, Lady Serena?"   
  
It was not wise to refuse the High Prince, especially when on was soon   
to become the wife of his chief rival, and Serena bit back the scathing remark   
that had almost slipped her tongue. No, she would use this time to try to   
gather information off of Roanus; perhaps he'd let something slip that she could   
tell Darien later. And so she accepted his hand, nodding in agreement.   
  
"Have you been enjoying the Caucus thus far?" he inquired, setting off   
along the river bank at a leisurely pace. "I remember my first, so many years   
ago. After a while it all becomes blase. One forgets how exciting it must seem   
to a newcomer."   
  
"That it is, my Lord. I was surprised Lady Ariane allowed us to attend,"   
she replied, careful to keep her tone neutral. "Ah, but I can see why she   
might have her reservations - " Serena's stomach twisted, and she mentally   
cringed. 'Oh, he's going to start off into a whole spiel about how uneasy it   
makes everyone feel having us here. And what if he knows about what happened   
at the races...I can't stand it. Please go away, please go away'. But the dreaded   
words never fell. " - If I were her I wouldn't let such enchanting young women   
out of my sight for long."  
  
She blushed, eternally grateful that the darkness hid her reaction. "It's   
getting late..." she stammered, trying to pull herself together. "No later than it   
was a minute ago." He placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to turn   
to face him. "But I see that I'm upsetting you."   
  
She clenched her fists and made herself look up into his eyes but was   
astonished by what she found. 'He's the High Prince; he can have any woman   
he wants...his power would attract many, though he's not painful to look at   
either.' She'd seen his mistresses, beautiful women he'd claimed for his own.   
She was frightened, scared like a fish out of water.   
  
"I haven't seen much of you these past days. I'm a stranger. But if you'll   
allow me I'd like to change that. I'm a patient man, Serena, and a powerful one."   
His voice was deep, seductive, and his touch was soft. "When you decide that   
the little princeling isn't man enough for you, I'll be waiting."   
  
His words kindled a fire within, and she wrenched herself from his   
grasp, even as his lips brushed her cheek. "I'm no man's whore, not even when   
the man is you!" Resisting the urge to slap him she held her ground, teeth   
clenched tightly together.   
  
"If you meant to intrigue me, let me suggest a better tactic. If you meant   
to reject me - I think it would be best to reconsider." He took a step back,   
sweeping his arm across his chest and bowing low. Then before she could   
react he disappeared into the night as silently as he'd come. Serena stood there,   
shivering underneath the pale moonlight, terrified. He wanted her....   
  
As she began to slowly make her way back to the tents she felt the   
moonstones tap against her thigh, and she took them out, clutching them until   
her knuckles were white. 'Oh Darien, what have I done? What will I do?'  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien arrived back at his tent, head spinning dizzily from music and wine.   
The banquet was still carrying on, and lively music fluttered across the sky with   
every gust of the cooling wind. He murmured a dismissal to Justin and slid beneath   
the smooth sheets of his bed, turning restlessly to find a position that wouldn't jar   
his shoulder. Sleep crept up on him, enfolding him with its warm embrace, and   
he dreamed of Serena.  
  
He could almost feel her soft lips touch his forehead, her fingers caress   
his cheek. He rolled toward her finding it completely natural for his arms to   
enfold slim shoulders, skin warm velvet under his hands. She pulled back the   
blanket and began an exploration, sending shivers down his back from sensations   
he hadn't known with her before.   
  
"Shhh." She placed her fingers on his lips, and he kissed them, wishing the   
lamp were closer so that he could see her face. The glass-shaded candle threw   
long shadows upon the tent walls, backlighting her midnight-darkened hair. He   
grabbed her wrists to pull her closer - and froze.   
  
Slender...as he remembered, but pliant, as her shoulders and arms had   
been as well, a slight layer of flesh between bone and skin. Serena was strong   
and firmly-muscled, not sleek-fleshed like this. The rich sent perfume rose   
from her body, not the clean fragrance of the wind and the wild he associated   
with her. This was not Serena.   
  
A sudden flare in the brazier outside illuminated her features, and the   
woman turned her head in alarm. Darien got a good look at her profile, and   
the violence of his reaction sent her sprawling on the floor, gasping for breath.   
"Berlyn," he stated in disgust, suddenly feeling sick. He tore a blanket from   
the bed to cover his nakedness as his guards rushed to the brazier to control   
the over spilling fire.  
  
"Hide me," she pleaded urgently. "If anyone finds me here - "   
  
"Go on, get out of here! I don't give a damn what happens to you!" He   
replied irately, voice only sightly under a horse whisper. "I'll distract them,   
but you'll have to run quickly, now get out!" She looked up at him from the   
ground, emerald eyes displaying neither fear nor anger. "Darien - "  
  
"God damn, you want to be found here with me, don't you?" He grabbed   
her roughly by the elbow and hauled her unceremoniously to her feet. "You   
thought you could shame me into marrying you by tricking me into dishonoring   
you tonight? You fool, get out!"   
  
"You wanted me, you know you did." She flung herself at him, throwing   
her arms around her neck. "Shut up!" He disentangled himself from her arms   
and dragged her over to the side of the tent. "One more word and I'll yell out   
and tell them all what a whore you really are." When she didn't reply he pulled   
the blanket tighter around his waist and whispered. "Wait until I've got their   
attention and then run."   
  
He pushed through the flaps and commanded the guards to go and fetch   
water. Others, wakened by the commotion came over to gawk, and he sent   
them back to their tents with calming words. The fire was out; the danger had   
passed. Only he glimpsed Berlyn's flight.   
  
When the frenetic activity had quieted he went over to inspect the brazier,   
expecting to find it charred. Water pooled in puddles around it, but not a single   
scorch-mark marred its surface. There had been no fire - at least of the normal   
sort. He glanced around him, catching sight of a slim figure lurking in the shadows.   
He started toward her, but one of his guards intercepted him with apologies.   
  
"My Lord, I don't have any idea how it could have happened! The fire   
just leaped right out of the brazier!" Darien sighed. "Never mind, no damage   
was done." He patted the man on the back and retreated inside his tent, for the   
shadow had vanished.   
  
As he stepped inside the doorway, though, his feet came in contact with   
several smooth orbs, and he stooped over to collect them. As he made his way   
slowly to the bed he smiled gently. 'How had she gotten them in here?' he   
pondered. He opened his coffer and placed the moonstones beside the diamonds   
he'd won at the race the day before, the former ever more precious to him than   
the later. "So you yourself were watching over me tonight," he whispered to the   
air. "May I always defend you as effectively, my love."   
  
  
*end of Chapter 7*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to get the next chapter out.   
But I did warn you, didn't I? Well, exams are over (until the spring),   
so maybe I'll have some more time...It's so frustrating - I know what   
I want to write, but I just don't have the time to put thoughts down   
into words. Oh, and I've started a new longer story. It's about   
Serena going away to summer camp one year... ^_^ It'll be a funny   
one (not like this one...I didn't realize it was going to be so serious,   
especially this chapter). I just start typing, and the story runs away   
with a life of its own. ~chasing after it and yelling "Come baaack!"~   
Anyhow, getting email would be nice motivation to getting the next   
part out...hint, hint, hint. Oh I'm so bad, aren't I? *grins shamelessly*  
  
- Mir 01.13.01  
.  



	9. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 8

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 8  
rating: PG-13  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: Yes, pg-13 again. More of the same...by the way, my   
website will probably have new parts to stories out sooner   
than the archives (if anyone's interested). Plus there will be   
teasers there for works currently in progress but not yet   
completed. Oh, and this chapter's slightly longer too...so   
enjoy :)  
  
  
*Chapter 8*  
  
Darien accepted the offered wine glass and smiled at Prince Helder.   
"Here's to your first Caucus," the older man congratulated, raising his glass to   
make a toast. "May it be the first of many." The light chime of rims colliding   
was drowned out by the jocund beat of music playing. The grass was soft   
beneath his feet, and Darien's head spun with the excitement of a good, noisy   
party. He tilted the glass to his lips, watching the red liquid drain away.   
  
"Aye, and it can't be over soon enough, I'll say." His eyes wandered   
over the girls congregating around the buffet table, searching for a certain   
light-haired pixie. "Thank the Goddess that today was the last day we had   
to sit around that damned table."   
  
"No complaints here," Helder replied, chuckling. "By the way, what   
did you think of the way Raonus slid that treaty in at the last moment. Quite   
sly of him really."   
  
Darien squinted, inspecting Helder's features for traces of suspicion   
or dishonesty. But finding none, he shrugged casually and again raised his   
glass. "I think it would be in the best interests of all gathered here today to   
sign an agreement proclaiming that if anyone's land is wrongfully invaded   
by another then the rest of us shall willingly and swiftly come to that Prince's   
aid," he replied, doing his best imitation of the High Prince while reciting   
Raonus's words verbatim. "I have my ideas, but when all is said and done,   
who know? It's Raonus we're discussing here, remember."  
  
"Quite right, quite right." Helder slapped his companion's back in   
friendly appreciation. "Your father was honored as a fierce warrior, and   
your sister was both fair and just, but you, my son, are the best entertainment   
I've had since Taro walked into my tent half-naked and fast-asleep. Did   
you know, he's a horrible sleepwalker. His wife has leaned to keep him   
tied to the bed; can you believe it? Just think of the teasing he'd get from   
his vassals if they ever found out."  
  
Darien shook his head in amusement. "Oh Goddess, he'd never   
live it down if they knew knew, would he?" He grinned, pantomiming   
a man tied to his bed but trying to sleepwalk nonetheless. Wine sloshed   
from his glass unnoticed onto the ground, and it was all the other could do   
to refrain from exploding with laughter.   
  
"Oh Darien, you're wonderful, did you know that?" Helder exclaimed,   
wiping a tear from his eye. But Darien wasn't listening - he had finally spotted   
the object of his desire, her plate piled high with half the buffet table, and he   
was making his way toward her like there was no tomorrow.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
As the party carried on, a lively ruckus for the young and starry-eyed,   
Nora sat by herself in the shadows of the willow trees. With her husband   
nowhere in sight, she couldn't help feeling lonely. 'Poor Nora, all alone and   
looking like she's going to burst of she gets any fatter' were her thoughts as   
she patted her swollen abdomen. At the very least she felt tired and disgusting.   
'I really can't blame Raonus for staying away from me when I'm this big. I   
can hardly stand myself'.   
  
She sighed heavily, closing her eyes and propping her aching feet up   
on the stool beside her. "You notice Berlyn's nowhere to be found." She   
jumped at the low voice next to her ear, but exhaled slowly when she   
realized who it was. "Elvira, don't scare me like that. You nearly gave me   
a heartattack.   
  
"Sorry, Mother, but did you see Berlyn come back to her tent last night?   
She was barefooted, and her skirt was drenched in mud up to her knees. Did   
you see her hair? All in tangles around her shoulders. The walls have been   
whispering. They say she all but threw herself at Darien. The little whore..."  
  
Nora frowned. "Oh dear me. The Prince doesn't seem like the type   
who'd appreciate the gesture," she replied, eyes drifting slowly to the man in   
question. Elvira shrugged. "Of course he isn't. Why else do you think he   
would have sent her away in disgrace. You know, she claims she went out   
walking and fell in a mud puddle, but I think that she made a serious   
miscalculation last night."   
  
She paused to catch her breath, cheeks pink with excitement. Loose   
strands of auburn hair waved gently in the breeze, and she reached up to tuck   
them behind her ears. "She's effectively taken herself out of the competition.   
Rumor has it that Lady Ariane wanted him to marry her little fair-haired   
Goddess-chosen girl, but Darien hasn't said more than three words to her this   
entire time. Damn it, Mother, there's no one else. The Prince is mine."   
  
Nora, slightly taken aback by the other's vehement tone, blinked several   
times, gathering her thoughts. She glanced up to observe Darien's latest   
antics, only to find that he'd wondered out of her line of sight. When she   
finally located him he was...leaning seductively over the 'fair-haired girl', and   
she arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you so sure, dear? It seems   
he's quite interested in her now." She watched as her daughter-in-law   
scowled in displeasure and stormed off in the prince's direction. 'They all want   
to marry into power, but it doesn't matter because I'm going to have a son,   
and Raonus is going to love me forever' she mused with detached contentment.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena lifted her fork, all but drooling over the multicolored mound   
on her plate. She tilted her head first to the right, then to the left, forming a   
strategy for consuming the work of art. "Are you just going to look at that   
or are you going to eat is as well?"   
  
"D-Darien." His hands gripped her shoulders, and she tilted her head   
back so that she was looking lovingly up at his chin. "Where did you come   
from?" She twisted around so that she was facing him, leaving only a plates-  
width between them.   
  
"Out of thin air, my love." He leaned down and would have planted   
a sloppy kiss on her forehead if Serena hadn't taken a quick step back. "Shh,   
you know you can't say things like that here. What if someone overhears us?   
It'll be all over the tents in a heartbeat, and what would you do then?" She   
could smell that alcohol on his breath, and she knew that she should really get   
away before they did something they'd regret in the morning, but her head   
spun in his close presence, and her heart beat loudly in her chest.   
  
"Not all the mercenaries in Sheridia could drag me away from you   
tonight," he replied, reaching for the offending plate that acted as separation.   
"Maybe not, but I have a feeling that one High Prince's daughter is going to   
give it her best shot," Serena retorted, retaining a firm grip on her food and   
eyeing a fast-approaching Elvira warily.   
  
"Who cares about them when I've got you?" He commented dreamily.   
Giving up on the plate, he was now trying to work his arm around Serena's   
waist, but she easily managed to evade his clumsy attempts. 'Goddess, he must   
really be drunk if he's acting so spaced-out...if only I could enjoy this' She took   
an apple from her plate and placed it in his hand, using his confusion to gain a   
foot or two of breathing space. "Why hello, Elvira. What a lovely evening this   
is, and what a pleasure it is to see you."   
  
Two sets of eyes glared at Serena, but Elvira was the first to respond.   
"Oh, it's nice to see that you two are enjoying the celebration." She smiled   
sweetly and laid her hand on Darien's arm. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to   
have a word or two with the Prince by myself. So if you'll leave us - "  
  
'Why that little wrench, just who does she think she is? Coming along   
and thinking she can drag my Darien off while I'm standing here...' Serena   
pressed her lips together, trying to control her complete and utter disgust for   
the High Prince's daughters. 'But at least it's not Berlyn again. Just let them   
wait and see. Come tomorrow they'll both get their just desserts' She breathed   
deeply, then replied with forced amiability. "Of course not, Your Highness. I was   
just on my way anyhow."   
  
Serena could feel Darien's eyes follow her as she made her way to the   
edge of the celebration, plate still in her hand. She dug her fork into the pilaf   
in frustration, not caring as bits of rice dusted the ground beneath her feet.   
She speared a piece of chicken, inspected it in the semidarkness, and was   
about to shove it in her mouth when footsteps behind her made her freeze.   
"I've been looking for you all evening, my fair Lady." Her eyes met those of the   
High Prince, and she suddenly felt nauseous.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Darien leaned against the frame of his tent, breathing hard. 'The one day   
I could have used Justin he's nowhere to be found' he grumbled as he reached   
for the edge of the flap and staggered inside. The only thing in his line of vision   
was his bed - the most inviting sight he'd ever seen in his entire existence - and   
he couldn't get to it soon enough. Falling onto it was the easy part, pulling the   
blanket up over his head was torture.   
  
It seems as though he had only just closed his eyes, and he groaned as   
a hand roughly shook his shoulder. "Darien? C'mon, you've got to wake up."   
Someone sighed in exasperation. "Darien, listen - we can't find Serena." The   
words jolted through him, tiredness fizzling away into the night air.   
  
"Did you just say that Serena was missing?" he murmured, focusing his   
eyes with effort on the worried face of Rei. She nodded. "She'd disappeared from   
the party, so Lita went back to the tents to see if she'd gotten tired, but the camp   
was empty. We walked down to the river but couldn't find her there either. Then   
Ami said that she noticed her talking with the High Prince near the edge of the   
dancing area...are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
He clenched his fists and slammed them against his forehead. "Damn,   
damn, damn the man. Why didn't I see it before?" He threw the blanket back,   
thankful that he'd fallen into bed fully clothed. "You...you stay here - in case   
she comes back." One hand against his temple, Darien spun around, searching   
for a match and a lantern. "I think it's time I paid the High Prince a visit."   
  
"But Darien, you can't possibly think that I'd let you go after her alone - "   
Rei responded, following him around the tent. "No, you're staying here." He   
watched as fire spread from the match to the oil inside the lantern, then turned   
to face Rei. "This is something I've got to deal with myself." And before she   
could protest he swept quickly from the tent, jaw set in determination.   
  
When guards stopped the rumpled young man who approached the   
High Prince's tents as if he owned them, Darien flashed his seal rings, muttering   
"Princes's business," and they bowed their heads and let him pass without   
further question. He paused at the entrance to Raonus's tent, knowing that,   
(depending on what he found inside) Serena's life might depend on his next   
actions.   
  
"Don't touch him. He's nothing to you." That familiar voice, strained   
with fatigue, cut through the air. "You lay a hand on my Lady, and you'll   
regret it!" His squire quickly followed, and Darien smiled faintly. "My Prince   
will come after us, you'll see."   
  
'They're playing for his attention, throwing each other cues' he thought   
in commendation. 'Thank the Goddess they've both got good heads on their   
shoulders.' Then in one fluid movement he lifted the flap and slid inside. "You   
have her rather inconveniently placed for rape, Your Highness."   
  
Raonus pivoted so quickly he almost lost his balance, and only a   
nearby chair kept him from ending up sprawled upon the ground. "I was   
wondering when the Princeling was going to show up," he smirked, folding his   
arms across his chest. "They've been assuring me repeatedly that you'd swing   
by to save them, but I admit that I was beginning to have my doubts."   
  
"Release them." Darien's reply was low, but firm. "Ah, so now the   
Princeling decides to give me orders. Darien, I'm sure your personhood   
wouldn't suffer from bit more vocabulary." The High Prince smiled cooly,   
his tone saturated with feigned levity.   
  
Darien stepped further into the room, talking and hoping that the   
other prince wouldn't notice his advance. "If you were smart you'd have   
already suggested that I am attempting to attack you and called for your   
guards." His gaze flickered toward Serena, and he squinted when he   
noticed her odd position once more.   
  
"Fantastic idea. I'm surprised I didn't think of that one myself - "   
Raonus replied brightly. Darien shook his head. "The problem is that you're   
thinking with what's between your legs, not your head. My Squire and Serena   
as attackers? No one would believe that; those chosen by the Goddess are   
bound by oath never to kill. And me, what motive would I have? I've been   
looking over your daughters, haven't I?"   
  
The High Prince, now fuming, raised his hand for silence, but Darien   
continued breathlessly. "No, I'd wait until after the marriage, not before.   
With Princemarche and the Desert united through matrimony and you without   
an hier, I could finish you off then and legally inherit your lands." He paused,   
catching his breath. "You do know that I never really considered marrying   
one of your daughters. I'm not as big a fool as you think I am."   
  
"I should have known, you little prick," Raonus growled, shaking his   
fist at Darien. "I should have known you were never up to any good. You   
thought you could lead me around like a horse to water, waving a marriage   
proposition under my nose while I signed treaties like a fool?" He stood   
before the younger man, broad shoulders firmly squared. "Well this is one   
fool who's too smart for your little games."   
  
"And what if I had married Elvira? Or perhaps your charming slut   
Berlyn? Oh I'm sure I would have made it home alright. But at the next   
Caucus, when I have a young son bouncing happily on my knee, would   
I find a knife in my back on the way home? Of course the other princes'   
would find it natural that you, as my son's grandfather, would sweep into   
the Desert and offer to govern it until the young Desert prince is old   
enough to rule in his own right." He pictured the two glass knifes he had   
hidden in his tent, one from the riverside and one from the race course.   
  
"The first attack was only meant to scare, wasn't it?" He sneered,   
drawing himself to his full height and staring confidently into Raonus' eyes.   
"Sheridians never miss...even when throwing from a galloping horse."   
He searched his opponent for signs of recognition, of surprise at the   
accusation, but Raonus wouldn't give into taunting, yet.. "That's why you   
insisted on that last agreement today, wasn't it? When Sheridian mercenaries   
sweep into my lands you'll cite the treaty as an excuse to bring your troop   
across the border as well." He broke eye-contact, right hand reaching   
slowly for his beltknife. "My vassals wouldn't put up with your stench near   
their holds, your boots on their fields. Let a single soldier of your cross   
across the border, and you'll see just how well my sister trained her army."  
  
"Silence," the High Prince bellowed, pressing close to Darien, teeth   
clenched. He pointed at the other's chest, fingertip digging into his sternum.   
"You'll be sorry you ever got involved with me and my affairs, princeling.   
When the time comes - and believe me, it will - the others will side with me,   
not you." Before Darien could reply, a flash of silver appeared in Raonus'   
hand, and he faltered backward in surprise.   
  
"Better run back to your tent, you son-of-a-bitch. Run while   
you've got the chance," Raonus snapped, waving his knife at Darien's   
midsection. "Not without my squire and wife," he spat, emphasizing   
the last word. "You don't think I'd leaving her here to be ravaged, do   
you?" Wasting no time he drew his knife and lunged toward the   
captives.   
  
Raonus caught his arm. "Not so fast." He smirked with disdain.   
"I doubt she'd be much use to you tonight anyway. To your credit, I   
had to drug her to get her here." Before the other could stick a knife in   
his gut, Darien twisted away, thankful that it was the right arm that had   
been captured instead of the left. The two circled each other at a   
comfortable distance, each sizing up his opponent.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Serena sat awkwardly on the bed, ropes chafing against her wrists   
and ankles. She stared at Darien, both relieved that he'd come to rescue   
her and concerned that he'd put his own life in danger. She tried to think   
of something to say, something that would distract that jerk, the High   
Prince, but her head swam, and her vision faded in and out with each breath.   
'What did he put in that wine anyway?' She closed her eyes and   
scolded herself. She should had known. 'He had two glasses, one in   
each hand, and he handed me the one on the right. I should have guessed   
his intentions.'  
  
'But at least Darien got here in time...' Her eyes flew open as she   
heard the quiet whoosh of steel through air, and had her hands been free   
she would have brought them to her mouth in surprise...or used them to   
conjure enough flame to burn Raonus to an indistinguishable crisp. Paralyzed,   
she watched them circle each other, crouched like hunting desert cats.   
'Raonus has the longer reach, but Darien has his youth and energy. He's   
stronger than he looks...but there's also the shoulder injury from the race'   
She weighed the factors favoring both, preying that no blood would be   
drawn.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
"If you've hurt her - " Darien threatened, easily sidestepping Raonus's   
lunge. The High Prince quickly regained his balance, scowling. "No   
permanent damage, I assure you," he retorted, gripping his blade tightly.   
Then suddenly, he closed again, missing the other's midsection by a mere   
fingerswidth. Darien spun away only just in time, cursing the lingering   
effects of the wine he had consumed earlier that evening.   
  
"Can the princeling only talk, or can he fight too?" Raonus taunted,   
once again advancing. Darien was unprepared for in the power of his   
attack, surprised that the High Prince continued his thrust even as his own   
blade tore into Raonus's shoulder. He felt a searing pain across his   
abdomen and heard Serena gasp, his knife falling to the floor. One swift   
kick by Raonus sent it skidding to the edge of the tent.   
  
"Should I kill you quickly or savor your suffering?" Raonus inspected   
his shoulder gingerly, keeping one eye on the younger prince. Silently,   
Darien reached down and pulled the second knife from his boot. "Neither,   
you Highness. Your Sheridian allies have failed, and you will as well." Ire   
rising, he began his attack, using his speed and cunning to deliver thrusts the   
High Prince was only barely able to avoid.   
  
But at last he stumbled, falling into Raonus, who grabbed his arm,   
placing his knife at the other's injured shoulder. "Cut me and I'll break your   
wrist." Darien threatened, grabbing the High Prince's arm. "You wouldn't   
dare, would you?" Raonus growled, pressing harder against Darien's skin.   
And in one smooth movement the Desert Prince wrenched himself out of the   
other's grasp, digging deeply Raonus's arm with his knife. He gasped in pain,   
stepping backwards and dropping his knife in surprise.   
  
"I think I'll be keeping this." Darien placed his foot over the blade,   
then leaned down to retrieve it and tuck it into his belt. Raonus watched   
in barely contained fury as Darien quickly slit the ropes restraining Serena   
and Justin. He gathered the former in his arms, placing her head against   
his chest. He strode to the tent flap, but turned at the exit, head held high.   
"If you bandage that well no one will notice," he advised, pulling Serena   
closer against him. Then, almost as an afterthought, he threw his parting   
shot. "I'm a Prince before I'm a man, your Highness, something you'll   
never understand. But while the Prince may forget about tonight, I assure   
you that the man will not." And with that, he turned sharply and left the   
tent, ignoring the set of dark eyes that sought to bore holes through his   
back.   
  
  
*end of Chapter 8*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Thank you to everyone who has written to me about this story and about my   
website. It really does mean a lot to me to know what you all think - and if   
you haven't written, please don't be shy! I promise I won't bite, and I don't   
mind criticism (as long as you have a reason for why you think my work   
stinks ^_^). So keep your eyes open for chapter nine - I'm not sure whether   
it's going to be the grand finale or not...it all depends on how everything works   
out.  
  
- Mir 01.24.01  
.  



	10. Elusive Thoughts - Chapter 9

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 9  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: Just a note about the size of the tent that appears later   
in this chapter - When I attended a certain outdoor function   
I saw a tent that was much, much bigger than the first floor of   
my house. In fact, there are only two tents of that size in the   
country! One was being used by Al Gore's presidential   
campaign, and the other...well, I was in it. Anyway, it's   
enormous...I won't even begin to guess on square footage   
because I've no idea. Just keep this in mind - and if you ever   
have an opportunity to be in a tent of this size, take it; it's an   
amazing sight.   
  
  
*Chapter 9*  
  
Long strides put distance between himself and the High Prince's dark   
purple tent, but Darien couldn't get away fast enough. He clutched the precious   
bundle in his arms tightly, praying that Raonus hadn't harmed her in any way.   
Justin trailed along behind, nervously glancing back ever few strides to see if   
they were being followed - but no purple-clad guards sprung menacingly out   
of the darkness.   
  
"Darien, love?" He slowed, eyes quickly shifting down to meet hers.   
"Can you take me away, away from all this?" She smiled wanly,desperately   
wanting to wrap her arms around her neck but worried that doing so might   
throw him off balance - and having them both sprawled upon the ground   
wouldn't' help matters.   
  
"Anything for you, sweetheart," Darien replied, telling Justin with a nod   
that he should go back to the Desert tents. He turned off of the path and made   
his way down toward the river into the quiet midnight darkness. The moon dimly   
lit the ground beneath his feet, and the light caress rain moistened his back.   
  
And, as he walked on, the water began to fall harder, drenching the   
summer landscape and humidifying the night air. Darien slipped on a patch of   
mud, skidding down to the river shore and only barely managing to stay on his   
feet. His shirt clung damply to his back, and droplets of water dripped from   
soaking bangs. Serena looked up at him through moist lashes, the thought   
'there's not a more dashing creature on this entire planet' running through her   
head.   
  
"You know, love, you're heavier than I remember," Darien teased,   
pausing mid-stride to search for shelter. Am old wooded bridge loomed ahead,   
gracefully spanning the rushing waters, and he hurried toward it. Once   
underneath, he leaned against the dry supports, sliding onto the ground while   
still holding Serena close. "Are you all right?" He inquired softly.  
  
"Besides a monster headache...fine -" she murmured, smiling. "- now that   
I'm with you." Darien wrapped his arms around her shoulders and whispered by   
her ear. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you better."   
  
Serena shook her head, wincing at the ripples of agony radiating from her   
temples. "It's not your fault. I should have known - Raonus was just there suddenly,   
with two wineglasses. He handed one to me...and then I can't remember why I   
followed him." She averted her eyes, embarrassed. "But when we were about   
halfway to his tent Justin intercepted us, looking for me." She paused expectantly,   
shivering, and waiting for an explanation.  
  
"I sent him after you because you'd disappeared, and I couldn't find you   
anywhere," Darien obliged, his tone tinged with the worry he'd felt when he'd   
discovered that Serena was nowhere to be found. The wet bundle in his lap   
giggled. "What's so funny?"  
  
"You - you were reeling from all the wine you and Prince Helder inhaled...  
and almost blew the charade in front of everyone by drooling over me." She   
grinned in amusement, .   
  
"Drooling? Who says I was drooling?" Darien exclaimed with mock   
reproach. Serena, finally giving in to what she'd been longing to do, wrapped   
her arms around his neck and leaned against his chest, her cheek against to his.   
"You can drool all you want to now."   
  
As her lips brushed his, memories of the previous night flashed across his   
mind, and he shuddered when he thought how close he'd come to making a   
mistake he'd never forgive himself for. Berlyn... "Serena, there's something I   
need to tell you - "  
  
"Unless it's that you love me, I'm not interested," she replied, silencing him   
with a deep kiss. And as his hands eagerly caressed her back and shoulders he   
found himself finally at peace, a sense of completion and finality that had been   
missing ever since Ariane's conjure all those years ago. They lay together in the   
sweet summer grass, rain beating persistently above them, lulling entwined souls   
into the benevolent arms of exhausted sleep.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
The first thought that jerked him from the blissful realm of dreams was   
the awareness that his bed was damp...not only damp - but as if to add insult to   
injury - cold and lumpy tool. Darien timorously opened an eye, expecting to   
see the blue tented roof overhead, but the only object in his line of sight was a   
mass of tangled golden hair.   
  
A fleeting sense of panic contracted his stomach before he realized who   
exactly was sprawled across his chest. Her breath was warn and moist against   
his neck, and he was afraid to stir, lest she wake. 'So last night wasn't a dream   
after all'. He raised one hand to brush the morning dew from his forehead,   
elbow knocking against Serena's shoulder by mistake.   
  
She murmured something unintelligible, nodding her head while smiling,   
and Darien knew that he'd give anything to know what thought occupied her   
unconscious mind. "I always wanted to see you with your hair down," he   
whispered softly, his fingers drifting across her cheek.  
  
Her lips began to twitch, and she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn.   
"Damn, I was planning on saving the treat for our wedding night," she teased,   
curling onto her side beside him. "Um...you smell just like spring flowers."   
  
"I what?" Darien exclaimed in feigned indignation. A moment later his   
expression softened, and he leaned forward to burry his nose in Serena's hair.   
"Um, you do too...just like the garden in the spring." He exhaled slowly, trying   
to relax sore muscles.   
  
She giggled as he rolled over, reaching out to massage his back.   
"We're laying in patch of wildflowers, that's why." His shoulders tensed at her   
touch, fingers involuntarily closing into fists. But before Serena could draw her   
hands away in offense he caught them in his and brought them to his mouth, lips   
nibbling her fingertips.   
  
"Come here, beloved. Your hands are freezing." This elicited another   
soft giggle from the unashamed offender who wrapped her arms around her   
Prince as directed. They laid quietly together until the sun had risen above the   
distant horizon, at peace with each other and ignoring the world.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
The vaulted tent was glowing with strings of white paper lanterns draped   
from corner to corner. Expansive flower arrangements seemed to spring   
spontaneously from center of vibrant tablecloths - the Princes' colors, of course.   
Soft blue silk covered the ground, dark swirls of night and ocean hiding the rough   
dirt below.   
  
Arian smiled in smug satisfaction - the Desert's contribution to the festivities   
bore a mark of elegant maturity, so much like the young Prince who'd paid   
handsomely for the bolts of cloth. Her gaze drifted across the space, appreciating   
the delicate Domarian glass goblets, shinning silver candlestick holders from Kerse,   
the long flickering Maritan tapers...it was a standing tradition that each Prince   
make a contribution to the last banquet, and the event had evolved into a sort of   
competition as to who could bring a gift that would outshine the others.  
  
The tent was rapidly filling with minor lords and vassals from territories far   
and wide. Each a blazing combination of his seat colors and those of his Prince,   
all drifted from table to table murmuring softly, exchanging rumors. For, as the   
Princes 'competed' in their contributions to the decoration, they also 'competed'   
in their entrances, and it was rumored that the Desert Prince would claim one of   
the High Prince's daughters for his own - the bets had been cast, and Ariane   
chuckled lightly to herself. 'Those girls never even had a chance, and they were   
all the more foolish to think they did.'  
  
Then, as if an invisible hand had smothered the tent with a layer of cotton,   
the noisy clamor died on the vassals' lips, and all head turned toward the   
darkened entrance. A solitary figure, tall in stature and faultless in decorum,   
cleared his throat and pulled aside the heavy tent flaps with a flourish calculated   
for effect.   
  
The spectators held their breaths in anxious anticipation. For although the   
procedure hadn't changed in over a century, the Princes' entrance was always   
shrouded by a vague aurora of nervous excitement - save for the High Prince's   
customary climactical finale, the processional order varied from Caucus to   
Caucus. Even Ariane had to admit to a certain tingling at the bottom of her   
stomach, a feeling that spread along her limbs like ripples across still water.   
  
The herald smiled quietly, as if indulging in some sort of private joke,   
then took a torch down from the wooden framework beside him and held it   
high in the air. The dulcet chords of commemorative fanfare pierced the   
breathless silence, and the herald nodded in recognition of the melody. "His   
Highness, Prince Helder of Kerse."   
  
Helder stepped forth from the enveloping grayness of dusk, and the   
swaying candlelight settled in the deep mahogany folds of his tunic. He   
inclined his head politely to the announcer then took his place beside his   
beaming wife at the head of his table.   
  
It was only then that Ariane, having secured for herself the seat which   
gave her the best view of the proceedings, realized that she hadn't yet caught   
sight of Serena's beaming smile. 'Is she not feeling well?' Her brow creased   
with worry - none of the girls had mentioned anything when she'd bumped into   
them just after lunch. She shook her head and pursed her lips. 'It's a shame   
that Serena's going to miss the closing festivities of her first Caucus...she must   
really be under the weather'.   
  
But as she sat in quiet rumination, the trumpet continued to sound, and   
one by one the empty chairs were occupied with flowing robes and glowing   
faces. A Rejakian Lord paused by her chair to offer his thanks for her   
assistance in conjuring fire to the glowing sea of candles, and when she again   
turned toward the entrance the familiar Desert fanfare lingered upon the still air.   
  
Perhaps Darien had, in his excitement, merely forgotten that the Princes   
always entered alone, or perhaps he'd wished to show his defiance and   
independence from the High Prince. Maybe he'd wanted to make the point   
that his wife would be his equal at the council table, not only in bed. Whatever   
the reason for his breach of protocol, the dinners let out a collective gasp as   
the Desert Prince, with his Princess at his side, stepped through the entrance.   
  
Ariane, torn between shock and amusement, brought her napkin to her   
lips to hide the smile that was rapidly taking control of her features The Prince   
was clad in somber black, a light cape sweeping elegantly behind him. On his   
arm was his Princess, a striking contrast in pale blue and white. Diamonds   
glittered from her ears and neck, and her hair was wound around her head in   
an elaborate arrangement of wisps and curls.   
  
"His Highness Prince Darien of the Desert...and the Lady Serena." If   
the guests had not been looking at each other in surprise they would have   
noticed Darien wink discreetly to the herald before guiding Serena to her seat.   
He avoided Ariane's questioning gaze, and instead took Serena's hand   
underneath the table while sipping delicately from his wine glass.   
  
When the High Prince swept into the tent on the dying chords of the   
trumpet, nothing could be said about his appearance except that it was a   
complete anticlimax. He scowled at the herald who was nervously stammering   
the announcement and tugged irritably at the long, billowing sleeves of his shirt.   
His stride was brisk and purposeful as he moved toward his violet-hung table,   
and his frown deepened as he passed those of rich Desert blue.   
  
The crows expected him to address them, and he did so with uncharacteristic   
reluctance, eyes piercing the dancing shadows but never lingering on any single   
face for more than a moment. "It is always an honor to share this last dinner with   
you," he began, his tone cold and forced. "We come together to commemorate   
the close of another successful Caucus and to raise our glasses to the future, an   
uncertain future but one filled with golden opportunities..."   
  
As the High Prince droned on, Darien leaned close to Serena and   
whispered in her ear, "I'm not sure whether I like the way he said 'opportunities'."   
She nodded in agreement, shivering when she recalled the feeling of his hands   
resting upon her shoulders. 'It's a good thing Darien will never know just how   
close Raonus was to losing his temper and completing the job he'd brought me   
to his tent for.'  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
And so the evening progressed - uneventful save for the occasional   
inebriated Lord who had to be led staggering back to his tent. Ariane watched   
the wine in the bottom of her glass slosh back and forth as she tilted the crystal   
from side to side. For all her resolutions to go easy on the early courses, she   
had once again overeaten, and the rich desert sat heavily in her stomach. It had   
been a chocolate mousse tort douched in light raspberry sauce and garnished with   
mint - simply irresistible.   
  
She could still hear the whispered comments flowing fluidly from one   
end of the room to the other. It was on the lips of every vassal, every Lord,   
and every servant.   
  
"My, was just me, or did Darien really usurp the High Prince tonight?"   
A man wearing Domarian green commented as he leaned across the table to   
reach for the dish of nuts. "And Raonus was furious. I could see it in his eyes,   
damn scary he is when he gets that look sometimes," another vassal replied.   
"I say he deserves it," a third piped in. "But don't tell anyone I said that. Don't   
wanna lose my lands because of me and my loose tongue."   
  
But even as the rumors flew around the room like insects fluttering   
from flower to flower, the subjects of the debate sat side by side with eyes   
only for each other. "Oh Goddess, I couldn't eat another bite if you paid me   
to." Darien pushed his plate away from him, the half-eaten mousse tort   
sitting forlornly in the center.   
  
"Are you crazy?" Before the plate had moved more than a half an   
inch another hand shot out and pulled it back toward the edge of the table.   
"There's no way I'm going to let you waste good desert." Serena retrieved   
her fork and began to demolish the dark, creamy mass.   
  
"Are you sure you're not going to be sick when I spin you around on   
the dance floor?" Darien retorted, gazing dreamily as the mousse disappeared   
before him as if by magic.   
  
"Me, sick?" Serena used the side of the fork to scrape the last of the   
raspberry sauce from the plate, then licked her lips and delicately brought   
the white napkin to her mouth. Fortunately, Darien couldn't see the smile   
she was hiding underneath it. "I dare you to try to make me sick."   
  
"What kind of dare is that?" The Prince replied wearing a dramatically   
perplexed expression. "Why would I want to make you sick?" He waited,   
but when she didn't reply his mouth began to twitch at the corners, eyes   
narrow ever so slightly. "Alright, you're on. What do I get if I win?"   
  
"More to the point, what do I get if I win?" Serena said in a voice   
just above a whisper. "I don't plan on losing, you know." She dared him   
with her eyes to contradict her, and Darien noblely rose to the challenge.   
  
"Me neither, beloved. Me neither."   
  
  
*end of Chapter 9*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Yes, a bit of a cliffhanger (I don't normally like them, but I figured I'd better   
stop here or else I wouldn't get this out by Friday and you all would have to   
wait yet another week for it).   
Again, many thanks to those who have written to me about this story and my   
others. This includes Jessica [Moonflower], Jen, Moncia, Rosey, Lady   
BlackDragon, Missy, Kelly, Tiffany, Tianya [Niya], Allison, Rebecca,   
SMoon485, and Gina [Princess Chibi Luna]....I can't thank you enough for   
your words of criticism and encouragement.   
  
- Mir 02.09.01  
.  



	11. Elusive Thought - Chapter 10 (fin)

title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 10  
rating: PG  
author: Mir  
email: incandescence@juno.com  
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/   
((completely revised - send in your fics!))  
  
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,   
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters   
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money   
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and   
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.   
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.   
  
AN: It's taken me forever, hasn't it? I don't want to think   
about how many promises I've broken (because I promised   
to get this out by last Friday). Anyhow, here it is - better   
late than never, right? Please enjoy. Dare I say that some   
of the middle bits are a bit bumpy? Oh well, that's what I   
get for trying to make deadlines (even if I missed it *g*). But   
don't worry, I'll smooth everything out in the revision,   
whenever that happens ^_^. Happy reading! - and stay   
tuned for the sequel.   
  
*Chapter 10*  
  
  
The music floated lightly across the vast tented expanse as if each   
note were born upon tiny silken wings of air. Forgetting her bulging   
stomach, Serena grinned contentedly as she allowed Darien to lead her   
out onto the area reserved for dancing. Fingers entwined with his, she   
fell into step beside him, relaxing as his arm encircled her waist. "If this   
is the best you can do then I might as well collect my prize and leave,"   
she whispered in jest, giving his left shoulder a light smack for emphasis.   
  
Darien winced in pain, grimacing briefly. "Gently, gently, remember   
the the race..." But then his arm tightened around Serena, and he snorted,   
pressing her against his chest. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you haven't even   
seen the half of it yet." They floated effortlessly across the floor, oblivious   
to the multitude of eyes that tracked their progress.   
  
Ariane leaned back in her chair and sighed in smug satisfaction.   
'They're finally together' she thought to herself as she folded her hands   
in her lap. She risked a glance at the High Prince's table and was   
surprised to see Raonus engaged in quiet conversation with a man to his   
right. 'I would have thought he'd be seething by now, the way Darien   
completely eclipsed him' But she shrugged and aligned her attention back   
upon her dazzling pair, ignorant of the bet that had been cast by the   
dancing lovebirds.   
  
"My Lady, don't turn around - just listen." The low voice at her   
shoulder startled Ariane, and she could barely restrain herself from   
twisting around in her chair to glare at the speaker. The voice was   
vaguely familiar, a voice accustomed to both giving and receiving orders...  
where had she heard it before?  
  
"It is of the utmost importance that Darien hear what I'm about to   
tell you, but I can't very well go and pull him off of the dance floor, so   
I need you to warn him that his life may be in danger. I've been standing   
at the door, and there's a good dozen men in dark Sheridian garb lurking   
in the shadows outside." The voice paused to make sure she understood.   
"I'm not usually one to point fingers, but I know for sure that those   
mercenaries aren't here just to listen to the music. No, they're going to   
crash the party...and I'd pay anything to know who invited them."   
  
Ariane jumped as a hand reached over her shoulder and lifted her   
desert plate from the table. "Are you finished with your diner, Lady   
Araine?" The same voice inquired, this time loud enough for the entire   
table to hear. "I do hope that it was entirely to your liking."  
  
And the Lady of the Moonlight, contrary to the speakers orders,   
looked over her shoulder - and found herself nose to nose with none   
other than Andrew. The words 'I should have known' came instantly to   
mind, but she bit back any sort of contrary remark, focusing instead on   
the danger the young man had warned her of. "I couldn't have asked for   
better. Be sure to let Prince Helder know that his Kersian tubers were   
fabulous."   
  
Andrew nodded. "I'll certainly let him know, m'Lady." He   
hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of what to do with the plate, then   
set off diligently in the direction of the small cooking tent connected to   
the far end of the large dining one. If some guests regarded him with   
puzzled gazes, he held his chin higher and ignored their stares. He had   
warned Ariane, now if only he could find some way to pry Darien   
away from Serena....  
  
And the couple, the couple that no one could keep their eyes off   
of, drifted across the dance floor, one step leading to the next, and to the   
next and to the next. The minutes flew past in rapid secession, and neither   
Darien nor Serena took the slightest notice. One had her eyes closed,   
her head resting against a warm chest gently rising and falling. The other   
had his arms wrapped gently around the woman of his dreams, one hand   
caressing her back, the other her shoulders.   
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Invisible to all but the keenest observer, a lithe shadow stalked the   
external perimeter of the glowing tent. His footsteps fell as light as the   
rolling mist, and his calloused hand was steady as it grasped the edge of   
the white tent flap. On his shoulder was a red badge, a solid field with a   
serpent rampant. The edge was bordered with a twist of gold and black,   
a mark of the order to which he belonged.   
  
But even his stealthy progress did not pass completely unnoticed.   
Two pairs of eyes tracked his silhouetted movements, one seated at the   
Desert tables, one standing guard by the door. The man moved as if to   
duck underneath the lifted flap, but then, in one liquid motion, let the canvas   
fall and withdrew back into the darkness. All was quiet; not a single blade   
of grass had been disturbed.   
  
If one had looked closely, he might have noticed the muted glow   
of heavily shaded lanterns. He might have seen the faint shadows of   
black cloaks against the starry backdrop. He might have smelt the   
lingering horsy odor of men who had spent too many hours in the saddle.   
But no one, save for two, cared.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Andrew's brow furrowed in worry, and he wiped sweaty hands   
on the legs of his pants. He licked dry lips in nervous anticipation, one   
hand creeping downward to the hilt of his sword. It had been a gift   
from the Desert monarchs, a wedding gift when he'd exchanged vows   
with their lovely daughter. Every part of him ached in her absence,   
every moment worse than the one before. 'I will avenge her death; the   
Goddess is just and won't let such grievous an act go unpunished'   
  
He rocked back and forth on his heels, suppressing an urge to   
hum softly under his breath. It was waiting that was terrible, the waiting   
for the inevitable. And then, as events often do, the false serenity of   
progressing nightfall vanished into troubled chaos, a fleeting memory   
evaporated on the wings of dawn.   
  
"Stop!" The husky bellow cut through the floating music, cut   
through the low murmur of idle conversation. The speaker square   
himself against the white canvas backdrop, hands on hips and hat tilted   
jauntily to the side. "The next one to speak gets a taste of my sword."   
And from his hip he made a great show of unsheathing the long blade.   
  
If people hadn't been paying attention before, they certainly were   
now. The music died on the musicians' bow, and every few tables a   
ceramic teacup crashed unceremoniously upon the silken floor. Ariane   
clenched her teeth together, hands pressed firmly against the tablecloth,   
temper dangerously rising.   
  
"I ask you, what do you want?" The new speaker rose from his   
chair in the center of the room, purple robes falling behind him. The   
High Prince held a half-depleted wineglass in one hand, and he raised it   
to the intruder, as if he'd forgotten it still rested between his fingertips.   
  
"We want what we've been promised," the black-cloaked man   
replied. He stuck the tip of his sword into the hard earth, the hilt resting   
easily beneath his hand. "You know us, good Sir, we do our business,   
nothing more, nothing less.  
  
"And what business, exactly, do you have tonight?" The guests'   
attention shifted to the third speaker - a defiant Darien standing in the   
middle of the dance floor with Serena unashamedly by his side. The   
other couples had begun to creep back toward the tables, as if wanting   
desperately to have something nearby to duck underneath if the scene   
deteriorated further.   
  
"Ah, the young Princeling just a cocky as ever." A smile began   
to spread across the intruder's face, a quiet dangerous sort, and Ariane   
flinched, wondering if her godson was in over his head. 'Why couldn't   
he have just keep his mouth shut for once?'   
  
But before either Darien or Raonus could respond, a sharp voice   
exclaimed from the entrance, "Darien, it's Sheridia. They're surrounding   
the tent!"  
  
"Andrew?" Darien's hand reached for his sword - left resting   
within the trunk by his bedside - and he cursed under his breath,   
reaching instead for the beltknife at his waist. His fingers closed tightly   
around the hilt while his eyes mapped out the most direct route to the   
entrance. But before he could act in response to the warning, an   
unexpected tug on his arm sent him tumbling to the ground. "What the - "  
  
The anguished scream from the musicians' platform told him all,   
and he didn't have to turn around to know that a Sheridian glass knife   
had found its way into the flesh of an innocent bystander. He hesitated,   
torn between covering Serena's body with his and standing to confront   
the attackers head on, but before he could decide on a course of action   
the High Prince once again stepped forward.  
  
"Enough of this nonsense!" He exclaimed, unsheathing the   
sword (that he'd not hesitated to wear to an occasion where being   
armed was the apex of indecorous behavior. "You've disrupted my   
dinner, injured one of my finest musicians, and you prance about as   
if you own this place. I demand to know why you have the audacity   
to intrude upon this celebration!"   
  
If the guests had expected the leader of the Sheridians to   
cringe at the High Prince's words, they would have been sorely   
disappointed, for he neither flinched nor frowned - but rather,   
continued to hold an expression that wavered somewhere between   
boredom and impatience. "Empty words, your Highness, will get   
you nowhere tonight." He squared his shoulders to Raonus, but   
his eyes kept slipped toward the dance floor, watching closely as   
Darien helped Serena to her feet.   
  
Only a handful of the guests noticed that his left hand had slid   
behind his back, and fewer still understood that the two taps of his   
palm against his hip were a signal to his men. Darien was one - and,   
not giving her time to protest, he shoved Serena roughly into Ariane's   
lap. It only took him a moment to snatch the sword from the nervous   
hands of one of the guards, and before Serena had time to blink, he   
was by Andrew's side, blade held before him in warning to the Sheridians   
outside the tent. "Come one step closer, and I'll stick this in your gut,"   
he growled.  
  
"Didn't your parents teach you that it's impolite to use false   
threats?" The Sheridian leader replied from the center of the tent. He   
chuckled lightly, a casual smile plastered across his face. "Oh, right,   
how improper of me to forget. They've been dead for years, haven't   
they?"   
  
Cursing under his breath, Darien glared back toward the other   
man out of the corner of his eye. 'How could I have forgotten about   
him? Am I that dumb that I'd leave Serena with the enemy?' Not taking   
his eyes off of the mercenaries, he clenched his teeth together, hands   
trembling ever so slightly. "You've no right to insult my parents. It's   
not their fault that they -"  
  
"Come, come, can't we all deal with this without spilling blood   
tonight?" The High Prince interjected. He was remarkably calm - not a   
bead of sweat moistened his brow, nor a single tremor seized his voice.   
"This is supposed to be a celebration, not a battle."   
  
As all eyes once again turned to Raonus, the Sheridians used the   
moment of distraction to shove their way into the tent. Three, no, four   
lithe shadows pushed past Darien, the last drawing his sword when he   
was almost on top of the prince. The others pressed forward against the   
now frantic crowd, brandishing their weapons at anyone who tried to   
escape out into the night.   
  
One look into the determined eyes of his attacker, one examination   
of the ritual scars that crisscrossed his cheeks, was all that Darien needed   
to banish any idea of stopping the flow events before steel clashed against   
steel, and he grunted as he threw up his blade to protect himself. "Tell me   
who you've been sent to kill."  
  
The Sheridian said nothing, but Darien hadn't expected him to   
reply. He ducked, feeling the movement of air from the other's sweep   
above his head, and began to move backward toward the center of the   
tent. Frantic shouts echoed in his ears, but he could barely distinguish   
voices above the bedlam of crashing glasses and breaking chairs.   
  
"Get off of me, you damn bastard!" It was a voice he couldn't   
miss, a shriek that fell upon his ears as lightning is drawn to the tallest   
tree. One swipe of his sword and his attacker reeled backward clutching   
his stomach, while Darien scrambled over the maze of destruction to find   
Serena.  
  
But he'd forgotten her performance at his coronation and at the   
races - for by the time he found her huddled underneath a table the   
Sheridian had already been disposed of. One glance at the corpse's   
features, frozen in intense agony, banished any desire to know what   
Serena had done to him, and Darien kicked the body with his boot,   
wanting to get it as far away from him as possible.   
  
"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?" He asked, trying to   
make himself heard over the racket, but she shied away from his touch,   
crawling on hands and knees toward the opposite end of the table.   
Unsure of whether to follow her or continue to deal with the life beyond   
the edges of the tablecloth, Darien hesitated. It wouldn't have made any   
difference, for his decision was made for him.   
  
The sound of heavy boots clomping near his head caught his   
attention, and the voice that followed cut through his concern for Serena.   
"He's under one of the tables. I know he's here somewhere!"   
  
So they were after him, were they…Even as the conclusion flashed   
though his mind, his words from the other night returned as well. 'I'm a   
prince before a man…' He shook his head in frustration; of course his   
words would come back to haunt him. And so he slid forth in one fluid   
motion, pressing to his feet before he'd been spotted. "I wouldn't have   
thought you'd sunk low enough as to hire others to do your dirty work,   
Raonus."  
  
The High Prince pivoted sharply, letting the wounded Sheridian   
he'd been supporting collapse to the ground. He sneered, mouth twisted   
into an oddly satisfied grin. "Good. I was wondering where you'd run   
off to. You wouldn't have wanted to miss the grand finale, would you?"   
He cleared his throat noisily, eyes locked with Darien's. "Why Darien,   
my prince? There you are!"  
  
The shout caught him completely off guard, and the eerie quiet that   
settled over the tent thereafter dampened his senses, slowed his reactions.   
He didn't even see the Sheridian captain until he was inches from his side,   
dagger aimed at his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging Serena to   
forgive him if he survived - but the expected blow never came.   
  
"Darien?" A bundle of dirty silk and streaming hair flew toward   
him as if propelled by some supernatural force. It stepped over the   
fallen Sheridian as if he didn't exist, and clutched the prince's arms like   
a set of iron manacles.   
  
The guests, those who hadn't fled from the scene, gawked in awe at   
the light that had emanated from the girl, the prince's guardian angel of sorts.   
Bless the Goddess, the captain never knew what hit him. "Serena?" Darien   
held her as tightly as she clung to him, his eyes scanning for signs of injury   
but finding none. "I, I thought…thought I'd never see you again…"  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
The following morning, the sun slowing creeping up over the tired   
horizon - two riders sat one behind the other upon a gray stallion by the   
name of Daffyd. In spirit with the concept of pathetic fallacy, the air was   
light and the sky clear, the epitome of the perfect dawn.   
  
They neared a stretch of open grassland, and the horse stopped to   
allow his riders to dismount. Then they walked, hand in hand, gentle   
laughter drifting upwards on the morning breeze, a large gray shadow   
following at a respectful distance behind.  
  
"What do you think will happen?" Serena asked, shaking her head   
slightly and sighing. She already knew the response.   
  
"To Raonus? Nothing…not yet anyway. It was perfect, beautifully   
planned. He won either way." Darien paused in his stride, closing his eyes   
and inhaling deeply. The lingering remnants of dew clung to the tall grasses,   
leaving moist streaks across his pant legs as he walked. "If I died he could   
have claimed regency over the Desert until a suitable heir could be found.   
If I didn't die he would have the other princes so frightened and suspicious   
of each other that they'd jump at the slightest accusation of wrong."   
  
He reached down to snag a handful of grasses, and then let them   
fall to the ground while he dried damp fingers on the front of his shirt.   
"Do you think they would've believed me if I'd told them that their illustrious   
High Prince was the one behind the attack? Not after he'd told them that   
he hadn't the vaguest idea who had organized the intrusion."  
  
She placed a hand on his chest, jaw set in solemn honesty but eyes   
dancing. "You underestimate yourself. If you talk I'm sure that at least   
some will listen."   
  
"Listening's one thing…but believing's another," he replied quietly.   
"They'll believe whatever they want to hear." He shrugged, wrapping his   
arms around Serena and falling sideways into the soft grass. "But sooner   
or later they'll want to hear what we have to say, want to hear it so badly   
that they'll do anything to wrench it out of us."  
  
She squirmed in his embrace, managing to free her arms so that she   
could play with his hair. "And when will that be?" She asked, teasing his   
seriousness.  
  
"Someday, someday soon," was the reply, and anything that would   
have followed was smothered by a barrage of well-placed kisses.  
  
  
  
*end of Chapter 10*  
  
- - - - - - - - - -   
  
Wow! I can't believe it...It's been four months, but I've finally finished!   
Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who's ever written me   
about any of my stories. I want to apologize to all of you who've been   
waiting for the next chapter of "Driftwood." That's next on my list of   
things to do, I promise! Keep your eyes open for revisions of "Elusive   
Thoughts" (I've got some new scenes that I'm going to add in), and   
some time in the future there's going to be a sequel as well - I've already   
got the plot sort-of planned out...but "Driftwood" first, as promised ^_^.   
Email, email, email...tell me what you think!  
  
- Mir 03.20.01  
  
P.S. -   
  
I'm hosting a fanfiction writing contest! It will be for Darien/Serena   
(Usagi/Mamoru) stories of any genre. The grand prize will be that I'll   
design a website for you (it doesn't necessarily have to be sailor moon).   
Send all submissions to incandescence@juno.com before June 1, 2001.   
Also, tell your friends about the competition and tell them to mention   
your name when they submit their fanfic. There will be a second prize   
for whomever spreads the word to the most people! There's no limit   
on submissions either, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't send in every fic   
you've ever written (pick your favorites). So...calling all sailor moon   
authors ^_^. Oh, and if have any ideas for runners-up prizes let me   
know, and maybe I'll give them out. Please use the following format:  
  
Name: Your name or pen name  
Email: Please provide a valid email address  
Friend: If someone told you about the contest please give their name/email  
Story Title: Yes, this is important  
Story Rating: G, PG, PG-13, R  
Teaser: Optional, but it would be greatly appreciated  
Hosting Site: If your story is already posted on a site (like ASMR,   
SpringLibrary, etc.) please provide the web address  
  
Please attach your story to the email as a .txt, .html, or.zip file  
  
-Mir-   
((and visit my website - http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm)) *g*  
.  
  



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